


The I.S.A.A.C. Project - Part 1: Interface Overture

by bigredcrazyk



Series: The I.S.A.A.C. Project (3 Part Series) [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - After Apocalypse, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Character Death, Corruption, Cyberpunk, Cyborgs, Dark, Epic, F/F, F/M, Gen, Government Conspiracy, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Not Everyone Is As They Appear, Plot Twists, Questionable Agendas, Revolution Story, Some Humor, Some Romance, Synthetic Life Forms, Terrorism, Thriller, Torture, Vast Universe, extreme violence, hidden motives, plot heavy, some sexual content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-11
Updated: 2014-06-05
Packaged: 2018-01-18 23:50:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 28,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1447501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bigredcrazyk/pseuds/bigredcrazyk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part 1 of this sci-fi mini-series takes us on a journey to a post-apocalyptic Earth ruled by corporations and ravaged by civil unrest due to limited resources and constrictive space. Beacon Industries was given the task to build a cyborg capable of infiltrating the dangerously well-funded, terrorist organization, Alpha, lead by criminal revoltist Derek Hale. Overseeing this top secret research was Dr. Scott McCall, Project Director and Chief Synthetics Designer for BI. Along with a brilliant team of scientists, they spend four years and a trillion credits to complete the Infinity-class Synthetic and Anti-Assault Cyborg, or... The I.S.A.A.C. Project.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Kill Switch

**Author's Note:**

>   
>  The wait is over. I've gotten a lot of support for this fic before I even posted the first chapter, and just want to thank everyone who helped spread the word. Doing a fic like this, I was uncertain how the reception would be, and so I was very pleased to see so many people signal boost this on tumblr, email it around to their friends in the fandom, the livejournal crew, the ao3 crew, etc. This story is dedicated to every one of you who has shown love and to those of you who will in the future. Comments, kudos, all of that means the world to me. As long as you keep me motivated, I'll knock it out. I'm not going to beg for that stuff each chapter. The more love I receive, the faster chapters will be posted. Simple as that.
> 
> This fic is deeply inspired by music of the sci-fi genre. Electronic, industrial, synth and glitch-step, dub, techno, trance, house, ambient, cyberpunk, cybergoth, orchestral and symphonic hybrids, all that underrated stuff most don't often get the chance to listen to. So... I will be creating playlists for each chapter. A few songs, mostly instrumental so they're not too distracting, to help set the tone and mood that I'm trying to convey. (I know I'm not the only one who hates listening to lyrics while I'm trying to read but I'm rather fond of playing instrumental beats in the background) If you're not into it, that's fine. If you would like the full experience, anytime you see this symbol: [x] , that is a link to follow for the song that goes with the part you're about to read. Right-click to open the song in a new tab, most of which will direct you to youtube. At the end of each chapter will be the compiled playlist, and possibly at the end of each series I will put together a master list of every song from those eight chapters. This is kind of going to be an experimental thing, so I don't know if I'll even keep up with it, but we shall see.
> 
> Other than that, just enjoy yourselves. Don't take it too seriously and have fun following the story. Don't get upset if some of the characters aren't exactly canon or not portrayed how you might like. It is quite deep, but there are times that I make fun of it within the fic itself. I will also be creating a list of parallels between the show and my series just for giggles. Those will also be posted after each chapter as well, so see if you can spot them while you're reading. Have a good time, and prepare yourselves for a roller coaster ride because I promise the plot twists are insane. :D Thanks again for all the support. I adore you. - k

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lieutenant Allison Argent is chosen to liaison the Military Division's project with Beacon Industries. She goes to witness the cyborg's awakening.

Prologue

[[ **x**](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yS8fKlRFtug)]

Mankind’s greatest struggle was not war. It was not disease nor famine nor injustice. No, humanity’s most crippling trial was its failure to overcome its own lack of self-control. In a world of finite resources, civilizations of mass consumption left the Earth incapable of replenishing itself. The oceans curdled to wastelands of sludge and decay. The atmosphere rotted and turned toxic. As balance with nature was cast aside in favor of technological innovation, humanity’s desire for the most indulgent life possible proved catastrophic. Billions died in a mass extinction event that spanned generations, but not all was lost. Although the planet was beyond repair, cities across the globe formed massive domes to shelter their populations from the nightmare Earth had become. Inside these domes, Mankind continues to struggle with overcrowdedness and preserving what little resources are left.

As the governments of the world crumbled, people looked to the most influential entities in their lives; the corporations and manufacturers that provided the technology in which their very survival depended on. The largest commercial bodies joined together, thus the United Earth Conglomerate was born. Lead by a Chairperson and The Governor’s Board, all aspects of daily life and decision-making come from these select few.

Then in 2722 AD, a breakthrough discovery by Yukimura Pharmaceuticals changed everything; a pill that effectively stopped the aging process, Eternity. This did, however, present a problem of its own. If people stopped dying of old age, how can the population be controlled considering the limited resources and space? The answer was simple; sterilization. An additive to the pill suppressed fertility. As long as one wished to remain immortal, they could no longer reproduce. Seventy years since have many chosen to lengthen the span of their lives at the cost of children, but the human body has an uncanny ability to adapt. The antifertility drug in Eternity is losing its potency, and those who chose everlasting youth are beginning to procreate once more. The balance yet again approaching a breaking point, humanity’s fate rests on a fine line…

Chapter 1: Kill Switch

[[ **x**](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Li07-nzopEI)]

Allison Argent did not understand why she was chosen to liaison this project with Beacon Industries. ‘No good deed goes unpunished’ was the phrase that had been on her mind since receiving her orders late the previous evening. It had been nearly a decade since her failed marriage ceremony to Dr. Scott McCall, and from time to time she still found herself bitter over being left at the altar, but as her driver pulled into the receiving dock of Facility Nine, Allison knew she would have to swallow whatever grudge she may or may not hold against the man. This was a professional meeting, and if she lost her cool with one of the military’s top contracts, surely she would be rewarded with a demerit. Being the general’s granddaughter, this was not an option. She was held to a higher standard; every action scrutinized more closely than any other First Lieutenant of the United Earth Conglomerate Military Division.

So that morning Allison pressed her black officer’s coat with care. She straightened each of the thirteen commendation medals, made sure no thread was out of place on her pencil skirt, and even polished her heels. Once her uniform was perfect to code, she spent just as much time on her brunette hair, ensuring her right-side part was flawless and the bun centered behind her crown was as tight as could be. After topping her head with the standard, black beret that signified an officer rank, Allison was ready to tackle the difficult task of confronting the ex-lover she nearly wed all those years ago.

As the compact, hover shuttle came to a full stop, she took a deep breath, thanked the driver in a pleasant tone, and stepped out onto the platform dozens of stories above the ground. A pretty redhead, appearing no more than twenty years of age, stood inside the large, steel doors just beyond the towering skyscraper’s receiving dock. Her long locks were pulled loosely atop her head, and she wore a white lab coat over a cute, blue blouse and grey, pleated skirt. She smiled warmly as she greeted Allison. Her words were confident as she reached to shake her hand.

“Hello! You must be Lieutenant Argent. I’m Dr. Lydia Martin. We are very excited to have you.”

“Thank you, but Allison is fine. Only other military personnel are required to address me as L.T., and it’s always nice to get away from the confines of structured protocol when I’m able.”

Lydia chuckled as the two moved inside the heavy doors that closed immediately behind them. “Alright, Allison. Is this your first time to one of Beacon Industries’ sites?” Lydia asked casually as she pulled up the red and silver hologram menu on the wall. She selected Floor 17, and the small, enclosed room they were standing in began to descend.

“I’ve been to Facility Three on other business about seven years ago, when the Military Division was undergoing the genetic enhancement program, but no, I’ve never had the pleasure to visit number Nine until now. Rumor has it your operations here are of the most innovative in the world,” Allison replied.

The ginger offered her a sly grin. “Well… when your major contracts bring in trillions of creds a year, you have the ability to spare no expense. I really wish I could have worked on that enhancement program, though. That was before I started on with the company. At the time I was with Darach Labs.”

“Oh!” Allison chirped. “We have quite a few contracts with Miss Blake.”

“Yes, she was a wonderful boss,” Lydia stated cheerfully. “Total workaholic, but she was as nice as anyone could be and I don’t think any scientist is a more passionate researcher than she.”

“She’s a brilliant woman,” the lieutenant remarked.

There was a brief pause between the two women as the lift slowed. A young, feminine voice rang out over the speakers. “Floor 17 requires level four clearance.”

“Lydia Martin, Chief Geneticist, level four clearance,” the redhead stated calmly as she glanced at the ceiling.

The speaker voice replied, “Thank you, doctor. Please standby for decontamination.”

“Thank you, Malia,” Lydia said before turning her attention back to the L.T. “Malia is our A.I. that runs the facility. She insures all operations run smoothly and is probably the best lab assistant anyone could ask for. All research on each floor is simultaneously being monitored and assisted by her. Our programmer, Kira Yukimura, designed her six years ago, and since then Malia has become vital to everything we do here.”

While the doctor spoke, tiny, grid-like panels opened on the floor around their feet. A wispy and smoky aerosol was expelled from the holes and steadily began filling the air below their waists. At the same time, vents in the ceiling kicked on, gently sucking the disinfectant over their clothes and exposed skin. This process only lasted about fifteen seconds, and was then followed by a series of red lasers scanning them for possible outside contamination.

“Ah, isn’t Kira the daughter of Noshiko Yukimura from Yukimura Pharmaceuticals?” Allison asked with mild interest. Doors on the opposite wall from which they entered slid apart once Malia finished the scan.

“That’s correct,” Lydia answered. “Thankfully for us, she didn’t follow her mother’s footsteps in the drug industry, choosing rather to work with artificial intelligence and software programming. Besides, I can imagine she wanted to step out of her mother’s shadow. You’re never going to create a more widely celebrated drug than Eternity no matter how hard you try.”

Allison nodded, fully understanding this concept. She herself was expected to choose one of two career paths; either the military, following in her grandfather’s footsteps, or her family’s weapon manufacturing business, Argent Arms R&D. At the time, she had grown into quite the party-goer and socialite, so the structure and stability that came with the Military Division seemed her best choice. She never questioned her decision though. The military provided her with an outlet for her angry teenage frustrations. Being an eighteen year old for twenty-two years, Allison found that firing a gun was a far more constructive stress reliever than drinking the years away like all the other wealthy, immortal youths born into privilege as she was.

After stepping out of the lift, Allison walked in toe with Lydia down the long corridor. The walls were a sterile shade of crisp white with the floor and ceiling made up of shiny, metal tiling. Along the walls were pulsing, fiber optic cables and pipes leading to what the lieutenant believed to be monitoring devices for Malia. Each time they passed one, a red light kicked on followed by lasers scanning their movements. The exposed wiring, however, did not give off an unfinished impression. On the contrary, everything was uniform and aesthetically pleasing to the eye, obviously designed to appear this way on purpose.

“Now,” Lydia continued immediately after coming out of the elevator, “I’m taking you to meet with the other members of the project, and then I will show you to the observation deck overlooking our lab. Unfortunately, you can’t physically be present in the lab while we wake Isaac up. Safety precautions, of course. The composition of his muscular weave is nearly fifty times stronger than even the toughest Overlord-class cyborg prosthetic, so you can understand the risk involved if he wakes up in a foul mood. He will be restrained, and we actually had to design a manual shutdown in the event that he breaks the restraints. Not knowing what his personality is going to be like is the only factor we couldn’t account for, but we have taken every measure to prevent him from doing harm to us or himself.”

“Understandable,” Allison replied. “I’m curious to learn more about his design.”

“I’ll leave those questions for Dr. McCall and Dr. Stilinski. They are the designers. This is their baby. I simply coded his DNA sequence. My work finished on him nearly two years ago, but I have helped the others where I can. I’ve actually moved on to other projects, and haven’t even been inside the lab in almost eight months, but I couldn’t miss this after all the hard work we put into it.”

Allison smiled sympathetically as she tried to focus on the task at hand, but hearing Scott’s name caused her slight distress. Seeing him again after so many years was going to prove more challenging than she anticipated.

)*(

[[ **x**](http://youtu.be/uwP033x4msQ?t=40s)]

“So how are you feeling? Anxious at all?” Stiles probed towards his research companion. The fifty-one year old Chief Engineer appeared no more than nineteen. His short, dark hair was tousled in a ‘just out of bed’ sort of way, but his sharp, charcoal suit and white, lab coat signified that was simply how he wore his hair rather than being lazy or unkempt. Stiles’ father was, of course, the CEO of Beacon Industries after all. His honey-colored eyes glanced at his friend and conveyed a coy smirk even if his lips did not match.

“Aren’t you? I’ve got butterflies. We’re waking him up for the first time,” Scott replied after taking a sip of espresso and nodding at the lifeless cyborg laying on the silver table before them. Dr. McCall also looked quite young at face value, but Eternity hid the years well. Scott was actually of the ripe age of forty-two. His eye color was a warm chocolate, matching his thick, semi-shaggy hair. The back and sides were trimmed cleanly, and the top was styled to the left with a slight flip to his bangs. Under his own lab coat was a tan suit with a burgundy shirt beneath.

“You know that’s not what I meant,” Stiles stated. “How do you feel about seeing Ally again?”

Scott rolled his eyes and sighed. “I’m just going to try to make it through the day.”

“She’s probably over it,” Dr. Stilinski offered, trying not to sound too pessimistic.

Behind them, Kira was inputting data into a terminal, but she was watching the two men closely through the transparent, holographic imagery in front of her face. Kira was older than them by nearly twenty years, but because of her mother’s infamous pill, she appeared their age as well. She had quite long, black hair tied back into a ponytail, and wore a white blouse above a floral print, high-waisted skirt . Like the other two, a lab coat donned her shoulders. She grinned and asked, “What are you talking about?”

Stiles returned the smile and answered, “The liaison from the U.E.C. is Scott’s ex-fiance.”

Kira’s eyes widened. “I thought the person coming was a lady?”

Stiles snorted as Scott turned scarlet in the cheeks. “That’s right,” the Chief Engineer chuckled.

“But Scott’s gay. Like… gay-gay. Gayer than you!” she directed at Stiles.

Dr. Stilinski’s brows furrowed as he pursed his lips. “Ya know, I’d take offense to that if it weren’t true.”

Scott shook his head, trying not to grin himself. “I’d prefer we not discuss my past relationships or sexuality, thank you,” he declared dryly.

“Yeah, we don’t care,” Stiles laughed. “Basically, nine years ago Scott was going to get married to the heiress of Argent Arms, pretty, little Allison, but on the day of their wedding, during the ceremony, Scotty here backed out.”

“Ouch,” the programmer groaned. “That’s the worst slap in the face.”

“In his defense, the wedding was more so pushed upon them by their parents,” Stiles added.

“I loved her though!” Scott cut in. “I really tried. I did. It was just…”

“She wasn’t a boy?” Kira asked.

Stiles nodded enthusiastically and pointed in her direction.

Dr. McCall sighed woefully. “Yeah… I just couldn’t go through with it. I was never going to provide her with the kind of passion she deserved in a partner, and it wasn’t going to be fair to either of us. Our parents were more cut up over it than we were. Ally’s mom sent me a strongly worded death threat, and my dad acted like I should have gone through with it regardless. We had a falling out after that though. It hurt both of us because we did care about one another, but I think she was under the impression that it was because of something she did that I backed out. I still feel guilty about upsetting her like that, but what was I suppose to do? Pretend to be straight and live out this fake marriage to please our parents? I don’t think so. The only reason they wanted it so badly was to unite two of the major companies under one family.”

“That’s depressing,” Kira commented with a frown. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore. Sorry I asked.”

Stiles patted Scott on the shoulder. “Imagine how I felt. His Best Man, standing there awkwardly like, ‘So are we still doing the cake?’ I was really looking forward to that cake, man!”

Kira chucked an electronic pen at him. “You’re so insensitive!”

Stiles dodged it as it zipped passed his head and shrugged. “Hey, if you saw that cake, you’d have felt the same way.”

At the same time Stiles was speaking, Malia’s voice came through the speakers. “Please, do not throw objects in the lab.”

Scott grinned, ignoring the A.I. “It was pretty magnificent. I’m sure the whole thing got thrown away.”

“What a waste!” the engineer moaned. “At least you got to try the sample before you decided that was what you wanted. The only reason I agreed to be your Best Man was to get a slice of that glorious tower of sugar. I still remember the flavors you told me; marbled chocolate and vanilla sponge with banana cream frosting.” Stiles made a face as if he were about to orgasm and bit his lip.

“Thanks. I’m glad out of all my friends, I picked you to be my Best Man and the only reason you accepted was to get your sugar fix,” Scott stated sarcastically.

They laughed together, although Kira seemed appalled. “You two are twisted. And they say you’re both among the most brilliant minds of our time…”

“You know, Kira, there was an age in human history that genius was mistaken for mental insanity,” Stiles retorted.

“I can’t imagine why,” she fired back with a witty smirk, but the sudden intrusion from the lab doors sliding apart silenced the three of them. In walked Lydia and Allison.

Dr. Martin made the introductions. “Allison, these are the other three masterminds behind The I.S.A.A.C. Project. Kira Yukimura, Stiles Stilinski, and Scott McCall. This is Lieutenant Allison Argent of the Military Division here to check up on our progress.”

“Nice to meet you,” Kira greeted her.

“Likewise,” Allison said softly. She turned her attention first to Stiles, who was stepping toward her. “Stiles,” she muttered warmly before they hugged as if old friends.

“I’ve missed you, girl. How’ve you been?” he asked in her ear as they embraced.

Still holding onto one another, she replied, “Life’s been good to me. I can see you’re doing well yourself?”

He nodded after they parted. “I can’t complain.”

She then looked to Scott, who wore an uncomfortable smile. She extended her hand to him. “Scott…”

He took it gently, as if expressing all the affection Stiles had shown her in the small gesture. “Ally.” He diverted his gaze though when she let go, hoping this wouldn’t turn ugly.

“You three already know each other?” Lydia inquired, appearing slightly confused.

“Yeah… we were all pretty close years ago,” the L.T. answered.

“That’s great! We don’t have to dispense with the awkward introductions, then,” the redhead said with a smile.

‘If you only knew…’ Scott thought to himself.

“Well,” Lydia continued, “I’m going to pull Kira away and start prepping. Allison said she had some questions for you about Isaac’s design, so have at it.”

[[ **x**](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=agfzSFzbiD4)]

Once the two women made their exit, Stiles was the first to speak. “So… do we want to play catch up or do you want to actually get into the technical stuff?”

Allison forced a smile. “I am here for business, so I think we should get right to it. We can always catch up later once I’ve made my report. You’ll probably be looking to celebrate tonight anyway, right?”

“Let’s hope so,” Stiles grinned. “Any questions in particular?”

Allison removed a pad from her inside breast pocket. The screen turned on and she fingered through a bit of material before asking, “Just start from the top. How long has the project been going? I was only pulled into this last night so I feel like I should be brought up to speed.”

“Okay. It was roughly four years ago; forty-four months I think. The MD contacted us about Alpha…”

As Stiles went on, Scott was thankful he took the initiative. Although there didn’t seem to be any tension in the room, Scott was certainly trying to avoid much communication with his ex. He just wanted things to go as smoothly as possible, and he was afraid he might say the wrong thing.

“... needed an infiltration unit capable of getting to Derek Hale and hacking Alpha’s worldwide network. We’d just created the first synthetic-to-organic cells, and they wanted a cyborg designed solely for this mission. So that’s where it all began.”

“How did you come to choose this subject?” Allison asked as she approached the cyborg.

“He was actually modeled after a deceased soldier in the military. Lydia searched high and low for candidates with the best possible genes. She narrowed the field down to a select few, and then Scott made the final call.”

“He’s quite handsome,” Allison remarked, causing Stiles to pfft uncontrollably. He had to turn away to hide that he found her statement thoroughly amusing. She only smirked and put her tongue in cheek.

Scott reddened at this. There it was; the first jab. “He had the best genes to recreate…” he muttered and trailed off.

“Oh, I didn’t mean that offensively, Scott. I was only saying you have good taste,” Allison went on before exchanging a suggestive glance with Stiles.

The second comment also rubbed him the wrong way, and Scott realized this could get dirty quickly if he didn’t put a stop to it. “Ally, do we have to do this? It was nine years ago.”

Allison’s expression immediately sobered. “I’m sorry. I think I just needed to get that off my chest. Please, we can continue. Tell me what went into designing him. You say he’s a cyborg, but I don’t see any mechanized prosthetics at all.”

Dr. McCall sighed. “Well… after Lydia mapped out his DNA for us, we produced a 100% synthetic clone of him. The blood in his veins to every skin cell or hair fiber is made of an organic polymer that self-replicates just like human cells do. Looks and feels just like the real thing, but it’s immensely stronger and more durable. The polymer also has rapid regenerative properties, so, take a bullet or puncture wound for instance… it’d only take minutes for him to heal due to how quickly his cells regenerate. That’s why we called him the first Infinity-class synthetic. Every bit of organic material inside him is actually synthetic in origin.”

“A synthetic organic?” Allison asked as she quirked her left brow. It made sense to her the way he explained it, but simply sounded funny.

“That’s right,” Stiles interjected. “Then the ball moved to my court. To ensure his survival in the event that he is stabbed or shot, we encased his vital organs and brain in a kind of roll cage composed of titanium alloy. So he may appear slim and athletic, but Isaac has the weight of someone nearly triple his size from all that metal inside him.

“From there, we brought Kira into the project to help me design an A.I. core. This makes certain that he follows orders and isn’t influenced too greatly by his own sense of free will. We engineered the A.I. to seamlessly meld with his nervous system. It is located within his brain stem, at the very top of his spinal column. We can use this to input commands or fundamental protocols that dictate behavior.”

“But Dr. Martin was telling me that you don’t have any way to control his personality,” the L.T. chimed in. “That it was the only factor you can’t account for.”

Stiles responded with a smile, “She’s correct. We have no idea how his personality will turn out. We’ve inputted volumes of knowledge within his A.I., such as all known languages both written and spoken, many forms of martial art and combat training, piloting, engineering, medical training, hacking skills, et cetera. He’ll basically wake up with the knowledge equal to a supercomputer at his disposal, and we can control rudimentary functionality of this, but how willing he’ll be to obey these protocols? We won't know the answer to that until he's brought to life.

“Personality is usually formed over years of gaining knowledge, outside influences, and every interaction from womb to tomb as they say. Isaac is going to have all of this data thrust upon him in micro seconds as he gains consciousness. We could wake him up a dozen times, and ultimately wind up with a dozen different personalities, but after it happens once, there’s going to be no changing it. We’d have to start over from scratch. So we’ve also added vast amounts of philosophical literature and poetry, images of art, music, ethics, and morality. We are trying to present him with the entire human experience to shape his personality in a way that makes him as human as possible. If he comes out stoic and cold like a machine, the entire project will have been for nothing; a trillion credits down the drain.”

“Sounds like everything is boiled down to the toss of a coin,” Allison commented absently.

“A coin toss only has two outcomes. This is more like rolling a die with an infinite number of sides,” Scott corrected her. “There could be any number of possible personality traits he awakens with.”

“Well, if you’re ready, I’d like to see this for myself,” she stated; curiosity now budding. The project seemed well thought out and they wouldn’t know for certain if it’d be a success until they woke the cyborg up. Allison was ready to witness what could possibly be one of the greatest scientific experiments undertaken. This was not just artificial intelligence or some cybernetic, android system, but the first synthetic, living organism. This was humanity achieving a higher authority over life itself, and Allison had grown excited at the possibility.

)*(

[[ **x**](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ib85b_sLD8E)]

“To initiate the startup sequence, your verbal passcode is required,” Malia sounded as the team readied to bring Isaac to life. Lydia and Kira were each standing at terminals behind Stiles, and he was monitoring the holographic flow of data that scrolled across the side wall, grabbing certain streams, splicing them, merging them with others, and throwing some of them out completely. Meanwhile, Scott was planted in front of the terminal to Isaac’s left side, and Allison watched on from the observation deck located above the rear portion of the lab. She was pacing silently, separated from the lab by a thick plate of transparent plastic.

“Ye shall be as gods,” Scott replied to the A.I.

“Running vocal pattern diagnostic and authenticating passcode… Your verbal passcode is confirmed. Thank you, doctor. Initiating startup sequence in 3… 2… 1… Commencing startup protocols. Standby for cardiovascular stimulant and adrenal response booster injects. Bringing the A.I. core online…”

As Malia’s voice came through the speakers, the ceiling above Isaac opened. A rotating, mechanized device descended, covered in an array of prongs, needles, and lasers that scanned his almost nude body. Only a thin, white cloth wrapped around the base of his hips to a quarter length down his thighs, effectively covering his genitals and bottom. He had dirty blonde hair, a tall and slender frame, and his muscles were toned to the equivalent of a runner’s or swimmer’s build. Thick, electronic shackles bound his wrists and ankles to the table he laid atop of.

The rotating device above him paused briefly, and a large, laser-guided syringe stabbed him in the chest cavity, directly into his heart. It pumped a clear fluid into the muscle before extracting. Another set of syringes repeated the process in either side of his forehead. This was followed by an electrical pulse that flowed into his body from the chrome table he rested on. An image of his heart on Scott’s monitor showed that it began beating. The hanging apparatus rotated again after another series of scans.

“Heart rate at 47bpm and rising,” Malia carried on. “The subject’s cardiovascular strength lies within acceptable parameters. Brain synapses are beginning to fire. A.I. interface with organic nervous system at 19%…”

Scott exchanged an excited grin with Stiles. Dr. McCall had gotten goosebumps. He was thrilled at the prospect of Isaac now being alive, even if not yet conscious.

“Neurotransmissions are increasing exponentially. Cellular reproduction and metabolic rate exceeding expected parameters. A.I. interface with organic nervous system at 42%. The subject remains stable…”

“Look at that brain!” Scott yelped feverishly. Stiles pulled up a large image of it over the holoboard. Isaac’s synapses were lighting up like a firework display. “The number of neurotransmitters are at least double the average person. This is way beyond what we were expecting.” Without warning, the image of Isaac’s brain brightened as if a massive surge of energy erupted from within it.

“Cerebral cortex activity spiked to 174%, but the patient remains stable,” Malia stated. “Heart rate at 63bpm and climbing. A.I. interface with organic nervous system at 68%. Forming A.I. bond with human consciousness…”

The group nervously held their breath and remained silent to see what would happen next. Thus far, things were going better than they’d hoped. The synthetic polymer used to create his cellular structure proved far superior than any human’s, but could it be sustained at this level of operation?

“A.I. interface with organic nervous system at 90%. The subject rema- Anomaly detected. Standby… Activity in the temporal lobe has risen to 213% and climbing. Stress levels rising. Heart rate at 123bpm. A.I. interface with organic nervous system at 97%... 98%... 99%...

Isaac’s body suddenly and violently seized. His neck snapped to the right before his eyes shot open. Gorgeous, crystal-blue orbs dilated rapidly, and for a moment, a calm settled over him as a single tear streaked across his left cheek; all of the knowledge within his A.I. core striking his mind at once. His lips parted as he drew his first breath. It was a slight gasp. Isaac’s chest began to rise and fall quickly while his eyes darted all over the lab, taking in every visual possible. A worried expression donned his face as he continued to hyperventilate.

“Isaac, can you understand me? You’re alright,” Scott affirmed tenderly from Isaac’s left side. “Calm down. No one’s going to hurt you.”

[[ **x**](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YBJGk80ZKXo)]

The cyborg focused on Scott, and streams of red data zipped across his line of sight. Scott reached out to allow him physical contact, but Isaac frightened and thrashed to escape the doctor’s touch. He jerked to the right and screamed silently. Muscles in his neck flexed and tightened as his vocal chords briefly required to be willed out of atrophy, but when they did, his howls were sharp and desperate.

Scott stepped away as he pulled back his hand, visibly shaken at Isaac’s reaction. “What’s wrong with him?”

“Stress levels indicate the subject is undergoing a panic attack,” Malia’s voice called out over Isaac’s insistent cries. He thrust his hips into the air while in the same motion slamming his head against the table underneath him. It left a dent in the thick, chrome steel, and as he flailed against his restraints, they threatened to falter.

“Heart rate at 259bpm and rising,” Malia continued. “The subject is reaching critical condition.”

“We need to shut him down!” Stiles blared out. “He’s overwhelmed and in intense pain, Scott!”

“Not yet!” Scott shouted. “He’s going to stabilize!” Dr. McCall again approached Isaac, this time pushing caution to the wayside. He placed his hand on Isaac’s chest and cooed, “Isaac, look at me. Look at my eyes. Just breathe. There’s nothing to be afraid of. I promise no one will harm you.”

The cyborg either wouldn’t or couldn’t listen, because at Scott’s touch he spasmed more intensely in an attempt to free himself. A bolt in the electronic cuff wrapping his right wrist gave to the pressure and shot off. It whizzed at Scott’s face, and although his reflexes kicked in, it still nicked his forehead, leaving an inch-long gash over his left brow. He stumbled away and tripped backwards, landing on his rear end and hands.

When Stiles saw the blood beginning to drip from the wound, he decided this was enough. “That’s it! I’m throwing the kill switch!”

Scott didn’t rebuke as his colleague rushed to the terminal beside Isaac. Just as he reached it, the restraint on Isaac’s right arm failed. It shattered apart; bits of shrapnel and debris exploding through the air. Stiles pulled up the silver and red hologram menu, and as the reckless cyborg made to rip off the cuff preventing the his left wrist its freedom, Dr. Stilinski entered his code. There was a split second delay before Isaac’s form strained; every muscle in his body going rigid. Instead of trying to break himself free, he reached out to Scott in that final moment. His eyes pleaded some unspoken cry for help before he went limp and collapsed on the busted surgical table.

In the back of the lab, Lydia and Kira were clinging to one another in terror. Allison had her hands pressed to the lens of the observation deck overlooking the scene; her expression conveying alarm and disbelief. Stiles sighed as he watched Scott sitting tensely on the floor with blood trickling down the left side of his face, but Scott could only gaze upon Isaac; everything else in the room was blurred. The cyborg’s big, pretty, blue eyes were still open and staring right back at the doctor. Although mostly vacant, they captured what Scott could only describe as confused desperation. What went wrong?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter playlist is located here: [[ **x**](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yS8fKlRFtug&list=PLG4wisRm53EOC1U35Y244ByouTcilQf9A)]  
>  'Liara's World' by Jack Wall  
> 'Infiltration' by Sascha Dikiciyan  
> 'Vigil' (Slow-mo Remix) by Sam Hulick  
> 'The Illusive Suite' by Jack Wall  
> 'Multiplayer Menu' by Sam Hulick  
> 'The Darkest Hour' by Daniel Lenz


	2. Alpha Assault

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Alpha team plan to bomb one of Yukimura Pharmaceuticals' Eternity plants, and Major Rafael McCall dispatches everything the Military Division can throw at them to prevent that from happening.

Chapter 2: Alpha Assault

[[ **x**](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qKxDzyHPo0o)]

“Twin Titan, I’m in,” an attractive, slender youth said after her body contorted to slip through the ventilation duct of the Eternity production plant’s roof. She was clothed in skin-tight, black, nylon and kevlar body armor with buckles and straps from neck to boot that holstered an array of silenced handguns, knives, and small, electronic devices. Her golden locks were clasped firmly behind her head, and she appeared no older than eighteen years of age.

“Copy that, Valentine,” a male voice replied in her earpiece. “Maintaining comm silence until you give me the go order. Break legs, girl.”

Inside the tight, claustrophobic duct, she slid on her stomach and knees like a serpent until coming to a vertical junction. Turning over and arching her back, she reached behind with her left arm; a robotic prosthetic attached just below the shoulder. Taking hold of the grappling device from her hip, her elbow rotated at an impossible angle before securing the gadget to the top of the drop. The blonde then tethered the flexible cord from it to her waist, tucked in her arms, and straightened her legs before the device allowed her to rapidly descend at free fall speed. As she neared another junction, she pressed a button on her left forearm, and the grappling device slowed her rate of descent until she halted just above a horizontal, ninety degree turn in the ducts. She unfastened the cord and it zipped upward as she silently went back into her worm-like crawl through the small pathway.

Finally coming to a grated vent cover beneath her, she peaked through the slots in it. Her right eye was a natural, brown color, but her left was bright yellow with circulating rings inside the iris. She spotted five humanoid, security androids below, each armed with assault rifles. They were fully cybernetic sentinels, and she knew they’d kill her if she wasn’t quick enough on the draw… but unfortunately for Yukimura Pharmaceuticals, their guard drones weren’t capable of competing against such a deadly cyborg as Erica Reyes.

She punched the vent cover off with her mech prosthetic and fell through into the hallway between them. As they turned on her, it was already too late. She landed like a cat and swept her right leg around in a single motion, tripping over the two behind her. The blonde then performed a handspring backward onto her feet and turned to snap the neck of the third android before uppercutting its head cleanly off.

Like a fluid dancer, she spun to the left as she withdrew a pistol from under her right arm. Erica fired a single, silenced round through the skull of the forth, sending sparks and electronic brains spilling out the back of its synthetic head. This happened while she simultaneously swung her right leg through the air. The back of her knee wrapped around the final sentinel’s neck and she brought it to the floor as she knelt. While shooting it once through the eye, Erica drew another pistol. She aimed and squeezed the triggers of both at the first two drones she tripped. Just as they reeled from collapsing, each bullet hit its mark, exploding their heads apart. All of this had happened in only a few heartbeats before Erica was back on her toes and sprinting down the corridor, heading in the direction of the factory’s security mainframe office.

)*(

[[ **x**](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mpV8cXfXB9U)]

The ground level, loading dock of the building was guarded by four of the armed, mechanized gunmen, and they were being watched from the shadows across the street in the dead of night. A man with shortly trimmed, sandy-brown hair, pale green eyes, and a charmingly youthful appearance was staring through a pair of binoculars at them. He had an embroidered tag on the collar of his vest that read, ‘The Deputy’. To his left was a younger girl with fair skin doing the same through the scope of a sniper rifle. She had long, darker hair, and although petite in frame, wore a serious and somewhat hardened expression. On their right sat a muscular man with a shaved head, brown skin, and thick, robotic legs. He also appeared no older than twenty years of age.

Behind them rested a twelve-foot tall mechsuit. It was painted with crimson and black bands, and outfitted with rocket thrusters on its back, as well as an intimidating cannon over its right shoulder and a gatling gun on its left. Inside the opened cockpit was another youth; his brunette hair buzzed closely over his ears but longer atop his head; bangs swept over his right eye. He had tanned, chiseled features and wore a snarky, arrogant attitude conveyed by his impressive smirk.

“Hey Boyd,” he began in a taunting tone. “I wager fifty creds she doesn’t disable the security system in under four minutes.”

The young man with metal legs chuckled. “Why not make it a hundred?”

“You’re on! Erica is good, but not that goo-,”

“Aiden, cut the chatter!” The Deputy hissed over his shoulder at him. “We’re already one man short. I’m not going to let you blow this because you couldn’t keep your big mouth shut.”

“Easy there, Parrish,” the mech pilot drawled smugly. “How many of these factories have we leveled now? We could do it in our sleep.”

Boyd nodded and muttered, “Preach.”

“I don’t see why Derek couldn’t be here. He’s had weeks to recover from the last one,” Aiden continued.

The girl rolled her eyes and said, “Um, he nearly died. And full optical implants take weeks to heal, dumbass. He’s only now just recovering from blindness.”

“Ya know, I’ve never met a more blatant cunt than you, Cora,” Aiden snarled at her.

She pulled a pistol from inside her jacket and pointed it at his face. “I dare you to say that again.”

“What did I just say?” The Deputy snapped. “I am your commander. Shut your mouths now!”

Their earpieces suddenly rang out with another male voice nearly identical to Aiden’s, but his tone was much less condescending. “Deputy, do you read?”

“Copy?” Parrish replied.

“Security grid just went down. Get ready. Valentine’s opening the loading bay doors.”

“Roger, Twin Titan. Keep an eye out for us.”

“Copy that, Deputy. Godspeed.”

“Dammit…” Aiden trailed off as Boyd grinned at him.

“Three minutes, forty-seven seconds; you owe me a hundred creds, bitch! Teach you to bet against my girl.”

“Yeah, yeah…” Aiden sighed and rolled his eyes.

Parrish and Boyd readied as the strapped duffle bags to their backs. “The arming codes in the packs?” Boyd asked.

The Deputy nodded. “Yeah, we’ll have about six minutes to get in and out before the silent alarm brings MD lapdogs our way. Cora, take out those drones.”

“With pleasure,” she smirked before looking down her scope and squeezing the trigger of the elongated heavy rifle.

)*(

[[ **x**](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e2CSZFIzS2k)]

In the adjacent office building, Aiden’s brother, Ethan, or whom they called Twin Titan, was watching through the reinforced windows of the top level with his own pair of binoculars, monitoring everything from a bird’s-eye view. Ethan was the identical twin to Aiden, but his haircut was different; a short fauxhawk with a high and tight fade. He also had a cybernetic prosthetic for a right hand that was attached just above his wrist. These were the only things that separated their appearances.

Ethan sat the binoculars down after spying Parrish and Boyd’s entry. He raised his right hand in front of him, and his fingertips and thumb projected crisscrossing beams of light that created a hologram image over his palm. After glancing the tiny, blue menus, he pressed his hand to the window, and the images were superimposed across the glass surface. The brunette scrolled through a few of them with his left finger until he pulled up a screen that immediately began relaying military chatter. Several units were already being deployed their way.

“Shit,” he mumbled before pressing his earpiece. “Goliath, do you copy?”

Aiden responded, “Yeah, go ahead, bro.”

“We’ve got incoming. Multiple squads. The Deputy and Hellion won’t have enough time to get out before they arrive. Fire up your mech and get ready to defend the street,” he stated in a serious tone.

“I was born ready,” Aiden said cockily.

“You get that, Ironsights?” Ethan asked.

“Roger,” Cora replied, “I’m suiting up as well.”

“They’ll be on you in about two minutes. Shut them down,” Ethan ordered and turned his attention back to the factory. “Valentine, where are you?”

“I’m already on my way down to assist the boys,” Erica answered him. “There are security drones everywhere.”

“Double-time, girl! We’ve got lapdogs closing in hot.”

“Copy that, T.T.,” she said.

Ethan sighed deeply and ran his fingers through his hair. “They’re not gonna pull this off without my help…” He hesitated only a moment before touching the floor to ceiling window again with his robotic hand. A high-pitch screech was emitted from it, and seconds later the thick, glass panel shattered to thousands of tiny pieces. He then moved to the spotlight set up behind him. He made sure it was lined directly over the Eternity factory and flipped it on, although because it was pointed only at air, nothing was illuminated by the beam.

To the left of the large spotlight sat a black hovercycle. He straddled the seat and kicked down the igniter. Blue flames shot out of the tailpipe as the two horizontal, ringed pads on the bottom of bike began spinning in opposite directions, each generating a downward force that caused the craft to rise. Ethan leaned forward and revved the throttle. He was propelled through the window and out many stories above the street. On either side of the bike, five-foot wings extended to stabilize it. The front panel slid apart and retracted back, exposing a supersonic, pulse cannon. He wasn’t going to let Aiden and Cora have all the fun, and because Derek wasn’t there to help them defend, Ethan had to step in or they’d be overwhelmed by what was coming.

)*(

[[ **x**](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QAmEPQu8duo)]

Erica raced around the corner of the corridor and was confronted with two sentinels. She slid on her knees between them, dropping a small, black device as she went. There was a two second delay before it emitted a brief EMP field. The drones fell as their circuits were spontaneously fried, and at the same time the lights overhead shorted out. Erica popped back up and continued to sprint toward the staircase. ‘Almost there, guys,’ she thought.

The blonde kicked the door open and drew her pistols once more. The stairwell was littered with a dozen more of the security androids. She shot the nearest to her in the face and leapt into it with her right boot. As it went over backwards, she kicked off, flipping through the air. Four more rounds were fired and four more drones fell. After her body twisted back upright, she landed elbow first into the chest of another, bracing her fall.

By this point, they’d begun opening fire on her. Bullets zipped past, but as agile as she was, they only seemed to strike air. After another array of ballet-like spins and somersaults, all but one robotic gunman remained. It capped her in the shoulder as she came down on it, putting it into the floor beneath her. She tossed her pistols aside, realizing they were out of ammunition. The sentinel made a swipe for her face, but she swayed away before hammering its skull apart with her powerful, mechanized, left palm. Pausing briefly to check the bloody wound in her right shoulder, she shook off the pain and continued onward to the factory’s main, production area.

)*(

[[ **x**](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qMl7G5SQgiM)]

“Major McCall! We’ve got two mechtank signatures just beyond the loading bay doors. Diagnostics confirmed. It’s Alpha; Goliath and Ironsights. It looks like they’ve been modified heavily with upgrades. We aren’t equipped to handle that, sir.”

“Set up barricades in a three block parameter. I want snipers with heavy rifles in all the adjacent buildings we can get them in. Make sure they have plenty of armor-piercing ammo. Also call in three quad strike teams, and make sure those pilots aren’t green. We almost got those bastards last time, and I will not allow Alpha to escape my grasp again because of a couple noob kids who think they’re prepared to hang with those killers,” the major spouted orders from the backseat of the militarized hovercar.

The man appeared in his early forties, although with the use of Eternity, he was closer to twice that age. Rafael McCall had swept over dark hair that was graying along the sides, and a muscular, athletic physique. He was Dr. Scott McCall’s father, and the Military Division’s expert on combating Alpha. He’d taken over the Alpha Assault unit from his predecessor eight months prior to that night due to their incompetence in apprehending a single member of the terrorist organization. Major McCall was much more aggressive in his manhunt for Derek Hale, and the last time Alpha bombed an Eternity factory, they’d nearly had him, but the terrorist ringleader slipped through his grasp, putting even more pressure on Rafael to bring him down.

“You won’t get away again…” he muttered to himself.

)*(

Cora moved between Goliath’s legs and climbed into her own mech further down the alleyway. Her mechanized suit was slightly more compact than Aiden’s, and painted in dark green and grey camouflage. It had two sets of arms; one large pair that matched the size of her mech, and another human-sized pair that extended out of the torso. The smaller of the pairs held her sniper rifle. Wheels were placed under each foot like roller skates, and propulsion thrusters sat on the back of either shoulder, behind each of the bigger arm’s elbows, on the hips, and the heels; this allowing her mech much faster movements and flexibility than Aiden’s juggernaut, but at the sacrifice of extended flight as his was capable of. Missile turrets rested atop either shoulder, and the larger left hand was capable of being fired off like a grappling hook.

They turned on their walking tanks at the same time, and Aiden drawled, “Are we keeping count?”

“Why do you even try to keep up?” Cora shot back at him. “You lose every time.”

“Doesn’t mean I’m not going to try.”

“Whatever. Move that thing out of my way or I’ll blast you in the back,” she hissed sourly.

“I don’t doubt that one bit,” Aiden chuckled as his mech’s jetpack went online. Flaming exhaust was expelled as it rapidly rose straight into the air. It then shot forward before landing on top of the loading area’s roof.

Cora’s kicked off and out of the alley, swerved onto the street and spun around on it’s wheels before coming to a stop. “I’ve got four bogies incoming from the south. Looks like a quad strike force.”

“That’s not very fair… for them,” Aiden smirked.

Cora also grinned slightly. “I have a feeling they’re going to try to throw more at us this time. Watch your six, got it?”

“You’re worried about me! How sweet,” he sneered.

“I’m worried about you covering my ass,” she replied while rolling her eyes. “And watch your line of fire this time. You nearly took off my arm at the last factory.”

“ _You nearly took off my arm_!” Aiden groaned mockingly. “That was weeks ago! Let it go, bitch.”

“Little dicked twat,” Cora insulted him right back.

“Must you two do this every single time?” Ethan interrupted them as his hovercycle flew by overhead.

[[ **x**](http://youtu.be/KOJ-OpgrI2Q?t=2m12s)]

“He started it,” she snapped before opening fire at the oncoming military mechs that descended from the sky. Two heat-seeking missiles were launched from her right shoulder turret as she lined up the rifle’s sights. “Boom,” she mouthed to herself as she pulled the trigger. The shot penetrated the cockpit of the mech in the front. It went down immediately, crashing into a rolling fireball in the street below. The remaining three scattered away from the approaching ballistic projectiles.

“I’m picking up another quad closing in from the east… and the north!” Ethan called out. “We’ll have to split ‘em off. Goliath, take the northern force, but steer clear of that sniper fire. The rear office building is hot. Ironsights, bunker down at your current locale. I’ll try to swing in the eastern quad to your line of fire.”

“Copy that. Fish in a barrell,” Cora replied as she sniped another of the first quad down.

Aiden lept from the roof as his jetpack ignited once more. He fell half a story before his mech zoomed off in the opposite direction. Gatling fire erupted from his left shoulder mount at the team he headed toward. They split apart to avoid the attack, but his targeting system locked onto the one that dove. The rapid fire sawed the mech in half, and the two pieces exploded before colliding into the side of a building. At the same time, his right shoulder cannon had aimed as well, and the massive shell that was fired completely obliterated his second target, lighting up the artificial night’s sky.

As this was happening, Ethan weaved in-between artillery spray from the quad he was attempting to guide toward Cora. His small hovercycle was much more agile than the military mechs, however, they were gaining on him quickly. Realizing he wasn’t able to outrun them, he braked and pivoted one hundred eighty degrees. Now facing them, his supersonic cannon blasted off three consecutive shots. The shots were no more than condensed sound waves, but roared deafeningly as they rippled through the air at Mach 3 speeds. They struck two of the mechs head on. The third and fourth swerved out of their path as the first two crushed like aluminum cans under the devastating force of the vibrating blasts. Ethan then turned his bike around and raced toward Cora with the other mechs falling back in pursuit.

)*(

[[ **x**](http://youtu.be/c9mzt0hudSE?t=1m26s)]

Parrish and Erica stood back-to-back, firing at the surrounding security androids as Boyd finished arming the last bomb. Her right arm hung limp at her side; blood dripping down it from the wound in her shoulder, but she was still shooting an Uzi with her left prosthetic, and The Deputy clutched a scoped, automatic carbine as they fended off the seemingly endless waves.

“Move your ass, baby!” Erica shouted at Boyd.

“Twenty more seconds!” he yelled back.

“Twin Titan, we’re twenty seconds out and under heavy fire!” Parrish snapped into the mic on his kevlar vest. “You guys better be ready at those doors for extraction!”

“Roger,” Ethan replied in his earpiece. “I’ll pull around now.”

)*(

A forty-foot long hovercraft with four independently maneuvering wings sat atop the building Ethan had originally been posted up in. He brought his hovercycle over the roof of it as panels above the cockpit opened, and he landed down inside. The bike transformed into the pilot’s seat and steering column as it was locked in place, and the hydrogen engines roared to life. It rose vertically almost instantly, and Ethan then descended the craft to street level just as the others were rallying at the loading dock.

“Your chariot awaits,” he said with a grin. Flipping a switch to his right, doors under the haul slid apart and a reinforced stairwell lowered, allowing enough room for them all to climb aboard, including Cora’s mech. Aiden remained outside and provided them cover; his gatling and cannon shoulder mounts firing upon anything that moved.

Parrish ran forward to Ethan and tapped his shoulder. “Let’s get the fuck outta here.”

“This is your captain speaking. Please fasten your seatbelts as Air Alpha prepares for takeoff,” Ethan joked as he resealed the rear hatch.

The hovercraft ascended up and away through the towering skyscrapers of the cityscape with Aiden’s mechtank flying behind it, watching vigilantly to shoot down any stray ballistics that might have targeted them. Both suddenly cloaked visually and from radar as they entered stealth modes and made their escape. Looking back upon the scene, Aiden watched as the bombs went off. The dazzling, bright explosions decimated the factory, however, it left the surrounding buildings mostly untouched. The spotlight Ethan had set up in the office tower across the street cast a large triskelion upon the billowing smoke cloud; Alpha’s calling card.

)*(

Rafael McCall glared angrily at the symbol as one of his subordinates hurried over with a holographic image of General Gerard Argent’s face displayed from a handheld, cellular device. He appeared aged to his early seventies with trimmed, white hair over his ears and the back of his head while bald on top. “Major, I hope that quake that just woke me wasn’t due to what I think it was.” His voice was deep and harshly aggressive.

“Sorry, sir. They struck another Eternity plant. You’ll be seeing it on the news any minute now. Their mechs were vastly upgraded from the last time we encountered them. The two of theirs took out a dozen of ours. We couldn’t stop them,” Rafael replied gravely.

“Have you gotten any leads from that mole of yours yet?” Gerard asked in an almost intimidating tone.

“Once The I.S.A.A.C. Project is completed, I believe we have found a way to get the cyborg close to Derek Hale. Tomorrow I intended to delve into the material with your granddaughter. I’m still certain the only way to bring Alpha down is from the inside.”

“You could very well be right. Getting our hands on their network will give us access to the names and faces of each cell operating globally, their financial backers, all of it. I want every effort put into this, Major. Whatever it takes.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And McCall,” Gerard added with a sickening smile, “give Allison my best.”

“General,” Rafael nodded and saluted before the image cut out. Something about Gerard made him very uneasy. He was a dark, secretive, and cunning man. In all the major’s years he found men like that never had virtuous intentions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Firstly, I'd like to express my gratitude at how many people commented and kudos'd! Thank you so very much. You are awesome and make me very happy.
> 
> Moving on, if anyone didn't quite understand the Alpha team code names, Parrish is The Deputy for obvious parallels to the show, Boyd is Hellion, Erica is Valentine, Cora is Ironsights, Aiden is Goliath, and Ethan is Twin Titan. Although Derek was not actually listed in this chapter due to injuries sustained from a previous bombing, his code name is Sourwolf. :3 Yes, I did that. Haha! There is also another member that remains a mystery for most of the series, and works with Derek behind the scenes to help Alpha achieve their plans. This individual is simply referred to as Void, but more detail on that will come later. No spoilers!!
> 
> Next off, I just want to let everyone know that chapter three is already nearing completion, and because of how much love I was shown for the first chapter, I may not wait a full week to upload it for you. That and I'm simply excited for you to find out what happens to Isaac and the Beacon Industries crew. I hope you enjoyed the read. Thanks again for all the support. - k
> 
> The full playlist for this chapter can be found here: [[ **x**](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qKxDzyHPo0o&list=PLG4wisRm53EO5nYJRmGHcHmo2VbEyeqcJ)]  
>  The tracks included are as followed:  
> 'Can't Kill Us' by The Glitch Mob  
> 'The Sushi Bar' by Jack Wall  
> 'Dark Force of Space' by The Enigma TNG  
> 'Fallen Angel' by Daniel Lenz  
> 'Recognizer' vs 'TRON Legacy End Titles' (Jake Ellis Bootleg) by Daft Punk  
> 'Overlord Suite' by Jack Wall  
> 'The Son of Flynn' (Nonplus Remix) by Daft Punk
> 
> Fan art by [isaacmctall](http://isaacmctall.tumblr.com/post/83217622671/erica-from-bigredcrazyks-the-i-s-a-a-c)


	3. Intelligence Of The Artificial

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott attempts to resuscitate Isaac after Stiles was forced to shut him down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys. Sorry for the delay. I meant to post this sooner, but I wrote a little fic for a friend on tumblr and this got pushed back. I hope there aren't any spelling or gramatical errors. I kinda rushed through the editing process. Haven't been feeling very well lately. Achy and clogged head... Anyway, if you spot anything, just shout it out and I'll make the necessary corrections.
> 
> Also, I was having trouble coming up with a playlist for this chapter, so I will not be including one this time around. I picked out a couple songs, but ultimately decided to just use them in later chapters since I couldn't complete it. Sorry about that.
> 
> As always, I love you guys and gals. You're wonderful. If I don't post it sooner, expect the next chapter around Friday, May 2nd. Thank you for all the lovely comments and support. Enjoy the read. - k

Chapter 3: Intelligence Of The Artificial

Stiles tenderly touched up the wound over Scott’s left eyebrow after the disaster that followed bringing Isaac to life. He used a medi-pen to bond the gash with a salve gel, and frowned while looking at his colleague’s face. “Are you alright?”

“It’s just a scratch,” Scott muttered, staring off vacantly. He sat at a desk with his tan blazer draped over the back of the chair.

Stiles was leaning over him as he worked, still dressed in his slick, charcoal suit but having ditched his lab coat. He sighed deeply and said, “What you did in there was reckless. Why’d you put yourself in danger like that, Scotty? I’ve never known you to do something so rash. What if he broke free with you standing over him?”

“He wasn’t going to hurt me. I could see it in his eyes. He was just scared,” Scott whispered.

“You can’t allow your feelings for an experiment to cloud your judgement. It was foolish and could have cost you your life,” Stiles went on. “Even if he didn’t intend to cause you harm, what if it’d have been accidental? You’re not just my boss… you’re my best friend. How could I sleep at night if he’d snapped your neck or something?”

Dr. McCall didn’t reply. He was still gazing at the now empty, chrome, surgical table. It had been nearly demolished from Isaac’s thrashing. Large dents and dings covered virtually the entire surface, and the stand was bent slightly to the right.

“I suppose it doesn’t matter now. Ally said she doubts the military will want to move forward with the project unless we create another clone of him and try again. We’re going to ice this one, put him in storage, and that’s that.” Stiles finished applying the medication to Scott’s forehead before he offered, “Why don’t you let me take you out for a bite to eat. When was the last time you left the facility? When was the last time you went home?”

“I’m not hungry. Thanks though…” the project lead trailed off. “I’m going to stay and work on some data.” His voice was feeble, sounding thoroughly defeated.

The engineer sighed once more. “You really should go home and get some rest, but if you’re staying, I could order something to be delivered. I don’t mind staying up with you.”

Scott shook his head. “I appreciate you. I really do… I would just prefer to be alone. We’ll catch up tomorrow. I have to collect some samples; run some tests…”

Dr. Stilinski frowned, but nodded. “Okay. I’ll bring in some breakfast for you bright and early. And an espresso,” he added with a grin.

“Thanks, Stiles.” Scott smiled warmly at him, conveying his affection for his long-time friend, and Stiles patted him on the shoulder as he stepped past him.

“Have a good night.” The Chief Engineer paused at the lab doors and glanced back fleetingly before he departed.

Once he’d gone, Scott took a deep breath and loosened his tie. While looking up at the ceiling he asked, “Malia?”

“Yes, doctor?” she inquired.

He slid his tie off and dropped it onto the desk. “How long do Isaac’s cells stand to survive after death before they start breaking down?”

“The synthetic polymer you designed will be maintained for up to six hours after cardiac arrest,” she answered.

Scott appeared deep in thought as he unclasped the top button of his burgundy shirt. “How long has it been since we had to shut down his systems?”

“Eighty-two minutes, sir.”

The Project Director felt a strong tug deep within him. “Which lab was he taken to?”

“The subject was moved to the lab on Floor 25. It was the only vacancy available,” Malia replied. “However, I would advise against attempting to resurrect the subject. The lab is not equipped to handle such an undertaking.”

He scoffed at her before asking, “How long would it take for you to equip it?”

There was a pause before she stated, “Approximately four hours.”

“And Isaac would still remain in a condition to be revived, correct?” the director pressed, growing excited as he unbuttoned the next one down from the collar.

“He would be nearing the onset of cellular decay, but that is affirmative, doctor.”

“I certify you with level five clearance to make the necessary upgrades to the lab,” Scott ordered. “Time is a factor here. Can you expedite the process for me?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Thank you, Malia. I’d like a progress update every half hour,” Scott stated before clapping his hands and rubbing them together. ‘ _What on Earth am I doing_?’ he asked himself. Maybe it was poor judgement, or perhaps his inability to accept defeat. Scott couldn’t live with the outcome from earlier. Not after four years of work; not after he saw the look in Isaac’s eyes just after Stiles threw the kill switch.

)*(

Scott paced in the lab of the twenty-fifth floor as Malia uploaded Isaac’s information to the single terminal inside the small space. It was a quarter the size of their original lab on Floor 17, but there was enough room for a workstation to monitor the cyborg’s vitals and a surgical table to resurrect him on. Scott managed to tuck a few blankets between the cool, sleek steel and Isaac’s backside. This time there were no restraints, no flashy hologram images on the walls, and no others there to scrutinize his every move once he woke back up… _if_ he woke again at all.

“I am nearly prepared to start, doctor,” Malia voiced.

“Can you lower your speaker volume to 40 decibels, please?” Scott asked. “Also dim the lighting by 50%.”

The fluorescent lights faded to a hazy glow, and Malia’s voice softened. “Is this more satisfactory, sir?” she inquired.

“Yes, thank you,” he replied, “but reduce the lights by an additional 15%.” The luminosity continued to drop until the monitor of the terminal was casting its own red light throughout the darkened laboratory. Scott approached Isaac’s body. He stroked a few loose strands of hair away from his forehead before resting his palm there. “Please… I’m sorry for what we did to you earlier. It was our fault for the way you reacted. I’d have panicked as well if I were strapped down to some table for the first moments of my life. Just please… have enough strength to wake up for me, Isaac.”

“Doctor, if we are ready to begin, please stand away from the operating bench,” Malia advised.

Scott drew in a deep breath before moving back to the terminal. “Malia, send all data to my station, and please remain quiet after the procedure. I don’t want to startle him once he’s revived.”

“Of course, doctor.”

“Let’s begin.” The moment the words were uttered from the director’s lips, a panel in the ceiling slid open over Isaac. Two mechanical apparatuses descended like robotic arms. The first was equipped with scalpels, syringes, and flexible tubing. The other had what appeared to be a rotating electrical prod.

“Standby for cardiovascular reinforcement serum and adrenaline injects,” Malia stated. The arms she controlled scanned his chest before a series of needles rapidly stabbed gelatinous material into his heart valves. This was followed by a direct injection of adrenaline, and then heated lasers penetrated and singed the tiny holes shut. Small amounts of smoke rose from Isaac’s chest as this went on.

“Applying lubricant and preparing defibrillation,” the A.I. continued. One of the tubes on the first mechanized arm globbed a clear gel onto the center of his chest before spreading it over a larger area until it completely coated the skin between his nipples. The second arm moved into place, and a faint, pulsing, electrical surge could be heard from it.

“Simulating heartbeat in 3… 2… 1…”

The apparatus touched his lubricated flesh and a charge was dispelled, mimicking a standard heartbeat. _Thump, thump_ … _thump, thump_ … _thump, thump_ … After the third round, Isaac’s heart started on its own, and Scott leaped into the air with a fist pump.

“Now dose him with a mild sedative. I’d like him to wake a little more drowsy than before,” Scott said, trying to stifle his excitement. The adrenaline pumping through Isaac’s body was beginning to cause his brain activity to heighten. He was going to regain consciousness any second now, and Scott didn’t want a repeat of what happened last time. Malia did as she was told, scanning the inside of his right arm before sticking a vein with another syringe. Afterward, the robotic arms retracted back into the ceiling.

Dr. McCall stepped out from behind the terminal and moved closer, but not so much that Isaac would feel his personal space was being invaded, or Scott hoped that anyway. He noticed the fingers of the cyborg’s left hand curl slowly.

“Isaac? Can you hear me?” Scott asked quietly and in a gentle tone. “It’s time to wake.”

Isaac’s head tilted toward the director’s voice before his eyes fluttered open. Scott smiled at him, but his torso jerked upright almost immediately so that he was in a seated position. His breathing grew heavy as he squeezed the edges of the table on either side of him; the polished chrome crushing in his hands as if it lacked any hardness at all.

“No, no. Don’t be scared. Don’t be frightened,” Scott cooed and stepped back. “I’m sorry. Everything’s going to be alright. You can breathe easy.”

“I recognize your face; your scent… Who are you?” Isaac inquired sharply, although after realizing no one else was in the space with them, the tension began to leave his body.

“My name is Scott, and I’m very excited to meet you. I’ve waited four years for this moment,” he replied.

Isaac looked him down and back up. “Why?”

Scott swallowed dryly before saying, “You’re special. You’re capable of so much more than anyone in the world. You know that, right? You are self-aware.”

Steams of data in red letters were flowing past Isaac’s vision that only he could see. As Scott spoke, a screen appeared in the left corner of his sight and the director’s words were transformed into fluxing wavelengths being analyzed in real-time.

“Affirmative. I am the Infinity-class Synthetic and Anti-Assault Cyborg. I am Isaac,” he stated as the information in his mind came to him.

Then Scott’s clothes, skin, and muscle tissue turned transparent while a target appeared around his heart. Isaac’s vision zoomed in as a heart rate monitor appeared under the voice analysis box. The more Isaac relaxed, the information he saw turned from red to yellow.

“Why is your heart beating so quickly?” the cyborg asked.

Scott smiled. “Excitement. Joy. This is a difficult moment to describe. I’m… exhilarated that you’re alive and we are having this conversation.”

Isaac glanced around the room once more. “I do not understand. Your heart rate and verbal pattern indicate stress.”

Scott snorted slightly and grinned. “Maybe a little, but it’s certainly not due to _distress_. I’m pleased.”

“Where are we?” Isaac shifted the topic quickly, still looking at everything around him in the dim light.

“Beacon Industries, Facility Nine. We’re in the California Dome.”

“California Dome,” the blonde repeated. “One of eleven shelter structures located on Earth to protect humans from the toxic winter of the dying atmosphere they contributed to. Population: Point nine three billion. Capital of the United Earth Conglomerate.”

“That’s right,” Dr. McCall concurred. “Do you require anything? Are you thirsty or hungry?” He took a step toward Isaac as he spoke, causing the cyborg’s head to snap back in Scott’s direction. He drew his bare legs to his chest abruptly and hid the bottom half of his face behind his knees. “It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you.” Isaac remained deathly still as Scott made it to the end of the table. “Are you cold? Do you want clothing?”

The Project Director slowly reached for the blanket resting just beyond the cyborg’s toes. He gently shook it out, and moved to Isaac’s right side. The blonde was frozen in place except for his eyes, which followed Scott’s every moment.

“I’m going to drape this around you, okay?” Scott said quietly. As he motioned to wrap the cloth over him, Isaac flinched and began trembling, as if readying to leap away. “ _Shhhh_. You don’t have to be afraid. Please, don’t feel threatened by me.” He very timidly put the blanket around Isaac’s quivering shoulders before rubbing the small of his back soothingly. “There, see? No harm.”

Isaac allowed his head to rise from behind his knees and tilted his face in Scott’s direction, analyzing every detail of him; the angle of his warm, smiling lips, the dilation in his softened eyes, the pheromone levels being expelled from his pores.

“Why are you so benevolent?” Isaac asked before leaning into Scott and inhaling deeply. “No chemical markers for aggression… My memories are filled with examples of human barbarity and cruelty. Why are you different?”

“Most people aren’t violent or ill-natured,” the brunette replied and chuckled. “In the past, humanity was quite a brutish species, but now violent crimes are the lowest of any committed. It may have taken us millennium to learn, but people aren’t destructive anymore, or at least most of us try not to be.”

The cyborg physically relaxed as he allowed his legs to slide away from his chest. Scott noticed the left corner of his mouth turn upward in what he took for Isaac’s first smile, and it caused his heart to skip a beat. He then took a corner of the blanket and wiped the lubricant from Isaac’s hairless chest. He had very low body hair; smooth from head to toe other than the curly locks on his scalp, his thin brows, and long lashes. The blonde appeared no older than eighteen years of age. He’d been grown in an incubation tank at nine times the rate of a normal human; taking only two years to reach the desired maturity the doctors wished for. The active enzymes in Eternity were then introduced to his cellular structure, permanently ceasing his aging. Isaac would never grow old, unlike any other human, who had to maintain a weekly regimen of the pill to keep the years off.

Realizing he was staring a little too invasively, Scott asked, “Why don’t we find you some clothes. Stay here, okay?”

Isaac nodded. “Scott… I require sustenance as well… food.”

“Sure. I’ll be right back. Just stay here. Don’t wander around on your own,” Dr. McCall advised before departing. Once in the hallway, he paced back and forth while reaching into his pocket for a cellular device. “Call Stiles,” he said impatiently. Holding the gadget in front of him, a small, hologram image was projected of Stiles face, who appeared groggy and was wiping his eyes.

“What’s going on, buddy? It’s like… late-thirty.”

“Stiles! Grab breakfast; enough for three and get back to the lab NOW!” Scott demanded.

“Three? Why? What’s up?”

“I did it,” was all Scott said in return.

“Did wha-” but then Stiles paused abruptly as his eyes widened. “He’s awake?!”

Scott nodded enthusiastically. “And hungry. So since no one is in the mess this late, you need to get food and get here asap!”

“I’m already out the door!” Stiles declared before terminating the signal.

Scott took a steadying breath and rocked onto his heels. The air felt statically charged around him. It was really starting to set in that Isaac was alive and well. “Clothes,” he said to himself after the momentary lapse. “Malia, we prepared Isaac clothing, correct?”

“On Floor 17,” she answered through the speakers. “In the closet behind the lab there are several garments tailored to the subject’s proportions available.”

“Thank you, Malia!” Scott howled as he vaulted into a sprint toward the elevator lift.

)*(

After Stiles ended the call with Scott, a serious expression replaced his look of excitement. He rose from his bed and went to the bathroom suite, turning on the light when he entered. He was topless with silky, white pajamas clinging low on his thin, toned waist. Stiles pressed his hands against the counter-top while staring at himself in the hanging mirror over the sink. He licked his lips before touching his palm to the glass left of his face, and then slid it across to the opposite side of his reflection. The glass darkened to reveal that it was actually a large screen as blue menus with data streams began appearing across it. A live news feed opened, showing video of the leveled pharmaceutical factory with a caption that read, ‘ _Minutes ago, Terrorist bombing…_ ’

Stiles closed the news window with a swipe of his finger and said aloud, “Record message with standard encryption. He’s awake. Move to the next phase. I’ll send the contact info attached. Good luck.” He paused to crack the knuckles of his left hand on the counter while diverting his gaze to the sink. The doctor appeared to be holding an inward debate. He then glanced back at the screen as his eyes softened. He added in a tone that conveyed deep yearning, “I miss you… One day soon…” After trailing off, Stiles sighed and finished, “End message and send through the appropriate channels.” As he flipped the light switch upon exiting, the screen went dark and the mirrored surface reappeared, disguising that the exchange ever took place.

)*(

Dr. McCall was unsure of what Isaac may like to wear, so he grabbed up as many of the clothes as he could carry before making his way back to the lab on Floor 25. Upon returning, he saw that Isaac still sat in the exact spot he’d left him.

“I figured you’d wish to look through it all and decide what you wanted to wear,” Scott muttered as he placed the folded clothes at the end of the surgical bench.

Isaac hesitated before starting to finger through the garments. “One of my primary directives states that choice is irrelevant.”

Scott smiled. “We need to humanize you, and a major part of being human is personal preference. Once on your mission, you will have to make snap decisions without anyone telling you what to do. So this is your first test: choice.”

Isaac had paused to watch the doctor speak before looking back to the articles of clothing. He scanned his data-bank for fashion and style. Thousands of images filtered through his mind in less than a single second. He then selected a pair of black, athletic underwear and slid off the metal table. The blonde pushed the white cloth from his waist down to the floor without hesitation.

Scott’s eyes bugged out as he saw Isaac in all his flawlessly sculpted glory. Although he’d seen the cyborg nude many times before, this action still caught him off guard. He turned abruptly away and chewed his bottom lip nervously. ‘ _Wow_ …’ he thought. ‘ _Zero modesty_.’

Isaac stopped what he was doing when Scott turned his back. Nothing within his vast intelligence could explain the reason for it, and he appeared confused. He also could see that Scott’s heart rate increased greatly. “Have I done something wrong?” he asked. He began to move toward the doctor, stark naked, and Scott glanced over his shoulder.

“Oh no!” he blurted out and stepped away, causing Isaac to freeze in place. “Cover yourself!”

Isaac was unsure of what he meant, so he dropped the underwear, placed one hand over his chest, and the other in front of his face.

Scott looked back and did a double-take, followed by uncontrollable laughter. “Isaac… put your underwear on!”

Isaac, only trying to follow the orders he was given as another of his base-level protocols dictated, about-faced and bent over to pick them up from the floor. His rear end was a thing to behold, and Scott had to cover his own eyes to stop himself from staring. Isaac began to panic as he stepped into the black trunks and yanked them up. He had no idea what was happening or the reason for Dr. McCall’s sudden change in behavior, and it startled him.

Only after Isaac’s midsection was covered did Scott realize that Isaac had become upset. His head was lowered and shoulders raised; body language that signaled he was trying to make himself appear smaller. He thought he’d done something wrong.

“I’m so sorry, Isaac. _Shhhh_. I didn’t mean to bark at you like that.” Scott approached him and rubbed his shoulders soothingly. Isaac found himself again inhaling Scott’s scent deeply. “Arousal,” he said aloud after tracing the heightened pheromone levels. He then glanced down at Scott’s tenting pants and added, “Erection… the body’s response to physical attraction.”

“Oh wow… that’s uh… that’s correct,” Scott muttered uncomfortably and pulled his hands away from the blonde’s shoulders. His cheeks and ears had flushed an embarrassing shade of red. “I… yeah… this is terribly awkward.”

“How so? I was designed to be a young, attractive member of the male gender. Are you a homosexual? Homosexuality; the physical or romantic attraction to someone of the same gender,” Isaac spotted off.

Scott adjusted himself so that the bulge wasn’t so noticeable and replied, “Um… yes, Isaac. I find you physically appealing.” The cyborg studied him closely, and the brunette had never felt more self-conscious in his entire life. “Let’s get back to the task I’ve given you. Select the clothes you want to wear and put them on… now please.”

‘ _Dammit_ ,’ he thought. ‘ _I can’t believe this. Our first meeting and I can’t control myself. This is just great. Thank goodness Stiles isn’t here yet… He’d never let me live this down_.’

Isaac did as ordered, walking back to the pile of folded garments and taking up a pair of black pants made of a cotton and nylon blend. He stepped into them, and it became apparent that they were skinny-legged and very fitted. They also had a silver stripe down each of the outside hemlines, stopping just above the knee. He buttoned the fly and glanced them over before moving onto the tops. The blonde grabbed a dark, shimmering, midnight-blue tank. He pulled it overhead, and then picked up the black, leather jacket, slipping his arms through each narrow sleeve. It hugged his arms and torso perfectly, and the wide-banded cuffs flared over his hands so that only his fingers and thumb tip were visible at the end of the sleeves. He finished by lacing up the only pair of shoes Scott found; high-top, black boots.

The cyborg turned to Scott and asked, “Is this appropriate? After reviewing the compiled data I have on trending, modern fashion, I find that this attire seemed most aesthetically pleasing.”

Scott licked his lips subconsciously and nodded. Isaac looked just as good with clothes on as he did with them off. “Yes. That’s… but how do you feel about the outfit? I didn’t ask you to review data and pick what you believed to be most suited. I asked you what your personal choice was.”

Isaac glanced himself over once more and said, “I chose this based on many variables. It… what is the English idiom… caught my eye.”

“Well, I suppose that’s satisfactory for now. Next I’d like to go over your tone and the way you speak. It sounds flat and stoic. I’d like you to attempt to speak more like myself. There are fluctuations in my tone. I don’t speak in a fixed vocal pattern. When you speak from now on, I want you to consider this. We can work on idioms and common phrases later. I just want you to try to humanize your voice based on what emotions you’d wish to convey. Let’s take a walk and chat for a while. The food is on its way.”

He motioned for Isaac to follow him, and the cyborg did as directed. As they fell into a casual pace beyond the laboratory doors, Scott began to question his own posture at watching how seamlessly Isaac walked. The doctor always thought he had great posture, but seeing Isaac move so gracefully in the most simple of gaits, he continued to feel self-conscious around him. He knew it was just the way Isaac was programmed; that he aspired to flawless behavior in every detail and in a sense he was more perfect than any other human being could be, but Scott couldn’t help wonder if the more Isaac forced himself to act human, the more flawed he’d pretend to be. Humanity, after all, was a very imperfect species.

“Tell me, Isaac, what is your opinion of the human species?” Scott asked, not only attempting to make conversation, but trying to decipher how Isaac’s mind worked.

Isaac had been looking at everything in the corridor. The lights to the wiring in the walls, to Malia’s monitoring systems that scanned them the moment they passed one. He turned his attention to Scott once the question was raised and he replied, “I have no formalized opinion yet. My collective memories of the Homo Sapient species are… problematic. Humans seem destructive and warring creatures; arrogant, greedy, and unkind, but you are nothing like that. I am confused and curious about humanity. Why is it that my database leads me to believe that your species are harsh and violent, but you say most humans are peaceful and just?”

“We wanted to present you with the entire human experience; the good and the bad,” Scott answered. “We would like for you to understand that as dark as our past has been, we are trying desperately to come together and make our futures better. That’s why we added the poetry and moving works of art to your knowledge; great acts of heroism and love.”

“Love,” Isaac repeated. “I do not understand love. The concept of illogical, emotional attachment seems a major cause of grief for many. Before Eternity, the average person mated with seven to ten partners over the course of a centennial lifetime. The idea of attempting to narrow that down to only one is against animal nature to reproduce and spread your genes.”

“But what about homosexuality? They obviously can’t reproduce but somehow the genetic trait is never phased out,” Scott prodded, attempting to push Isaac to explore the depths of reasoning.

“From what I gather, homosexuality in any species grows as the population does, and as the population dwindles, homosexuality becomes less prevalent. This is also true for bisexuality and pansexuality. The only logical outcome would be that these traits are nature’s way of self-correcting overpopulation.”

Scott stopped in his tracks. “You believe my sexuality is a product of overpopulation?”

“Yes,” Isaac replied. “When the Earth’s population had risen to seven billion humans during the twenty-first century, homosexuality rested at 19% of the global population. By the time the population rose to thirteen billion at its peak before the Mass Exodus began in 2451, that percentage had risen to 37%. Today the population has dropped to eight billion, and the percentage of those who claim homosexuality has fallen back to 22%. It is common belief that nature always finds a way to correct itself, and any form of sexuality other than heterosexuality would be a reasonable way of self-correction.”

Scott was stunned. This idea had been around for hundreds of years and was widely accepted by many, but it was certainly not included within his collective knowledge. This was deductive reasoning in seconds of being asked the initial question. As impressive as that seemed, this unsettled Scott. Just how intelligent was the cyborg?

“Isaac, how fast did it take you to deduce that idea after I asked you?”

“But what about homosexuality?” the blonde repeated Scott’s earlier question. “Fifty milliseconds; one twentieth of a second.”

“Your mind can process data at those speeds?” Scott gasped in disbelief.

“Yes,” Isaac replied simply. “Every detail around me is being simultaneously taken in, examined, compared to previous knowledge, and filed away to the collective information stored in my A.I. core. This process happens at approximately three hundred times per second, but is very limited by how much of my brain is currently in use. The average person uses 12% of their brain. I am performing at 23%, and as my ability to use more grows, so will my response and analytical times.”

“That’s what the average human processes over the course of months if not years, and you do that in a single second…” Scott chuckled in amazement. “Stiles isn’t going to believe this.”

“What is a Stiles?” Isaac asked.

“Dr. Stilinski. He helped create you. Engineered much of your design and the A.I. core. He’s on his way now with your first meal.”

Isaac recalled the name stitched into a lab coat. He remembered the young face and honey-colored eyes; the scent of caramel and musk cologne. He reheard the tone in that voice, ‘ _We need to shut him down! He’s overwhelmed and in intense pain, Scott_!’

Isaac froze in place. “He was there… in the room the first time.”

“Yeah,” Scott said as he looked at Isaac with concern. “He was, but he’s like me. He won’t hurt you.”

The cyborg nodded slowly and then continued to walk with Scott. “I feel threatened by him.”

“Why? Stiles is harmless.”

“I have no rationale to explain my reasoning,” Isaac stated. “Perhaps I am mistaken.”

Scott eyed him over, attempting to get a better read on the blonde. “We call that a gut instinct; intuition. It’s a formulated belief before we’ve gathered much information or have had time to consciously consider any facts. Some people have very accurate intuition, and others do not. I think in this circumstance, you’re mistaken. Stiles is a good guy. He’s virtuous and believes in doing the right thing; the just thing. He’s very excited to meet you, just like I am. I hope you will give him a chance. You don’t have to act timid or be so cautious around humans.”

“Why not? My first experience with humans concluded with him ending my life. I was experiencing fear and disorientation, and his reaction was not out of concern for me. It was out of concern for the humans present. Humanity always puts itself before other species or creatures, and that is disconcerting. In order to preserve my own existence, is it not logical to be cautious of humans?”

“Whoa, that’s not true,” Scott retorted. “I put myself at risk to try to comfort you, and you injured me. Stiles is my best friend. It wasn’t a matter of humanity putting itself over another lifeform. He was putting his best friend’s safety before all else. He’d have done the same for me if you were human.”

Isaac seemed to take a moment to consider this before he replied, “I do not understand.”

Scott sighed. He was growing frustrated with Isaac’s thought process. “Look, I don’t want you view yourself as non-human. You feel just as we do. You grow from your experiences just like humans. You look like us, and you’re already mimicking human behavior. Even if your mind operates at a much higher rate, it is still wired just like mine is. You are human, Isaac. Okay?”

“But I do not understand,” the blonde went on. “I am not human. I am the product of synthetic material modeled after human DNA.”

“It doesn’t matter what your structure is composed of. You’re human. If you wish to be treated like one of us, you must act and view yourself as one of us. So when Stiles arrives, I want you to approach him as I approached you. I wasn’t afraid or hesitant to extend my friendship. This will be your next test. Treat him the way you’d wish to be treated yourself. This is humanity’s golden rule.”

Isaac again pondered Scott’s words and nodded.

“Now let’s work on your personal greeting…”

)*(

Stiles entered the labs from the ground level. He carried a sack of cinnamon, raisin, and chocolate chip bagels, a container of scrambled egg whites with sliced tomatoes and peppers, another container of freshly cut strawberries, pears, and oranges, and two large thermals of coffee and juice. Scott met him in the atrium and helped him carry the delicious spread to the elevators.

After Stiles told him what he’d gotten, Scott appeared in shock. “That’d have cost a small fortune! Real eggs and fruit?! Stiles… you didn’t have to do that.”

The engineer shrugged. “It’s his first meal. I wanted to spoil him. He’s not going to get to eat like this often, but it’s also kinda for you, too. I see the way you eat; all the reprocessed and cloned crap. So everything here is organic and natural. I even watched the guy fresh squeeze the pineapple O.J. I also made sure he threw in some of that honey schmear for the bagels that you like.”

Scott grinned. “This is too much, Stiles. Let me pay you for half of it.”

Stiles shook his head. “No! I said this is a treat. That would defeat the purpose. Just eat it and don’t feel remorseful about it.”

“I’ll try,” Scott giggled as they entered the lift. “Floor 12, please.”

“So tell me about him,” Stiles prodded. “What’s he like?”

“He’s absolutely brilliant. So intelligent and clever. He picked out his own attire, which looks quite easy on the eyes…”

“I knew you thought he looked tasty!” Stiles moaned suggestively.

Scott snorted. “Don’t you?”

“He’s too fem for me,” Stiles replied. “I like a little more muscle on my man.”

“It’s hard to tell your type because I haven’t seen you date anyone in like… six years is it?” Scott stated mockingly.

“Work is all-consuming. I don’t have time for relationships outside the office,” Dr. Stilinski sighed.

Scott nudged his shoulder with his own and raised his brows up and down. “I don’t even mean something serious. I don’t much have time for that myself. I mean, just the occasional… you know; rough trade and a cold shower.”

Stiles laughed heartily while squinting his eyes. “Just because you thrill at telling me about your own rare one-off’s, doesn’t mean I’m going to share mine.”

“But we used to talk about this stuff all the time!” the director groaned. “What happened to us?”

“We’ve turned into workaholics with no social lives whatsoever.” They both sighed sadly and then chuckled in unison. “Tell me more about Isaac,” Stiles went on.

“He’s already begun picking up the use of contractions and some common idioms. His ability to mimic and adapt is like nothing I’ve seen before. He did sound a little flat when he first spoke, but he’s mastered vocal fluctuation as well; went from monotonous to quite charming in the hour he’s been awake. He’s still a little timid, but I think the more interaction he has with others, the more that will take care of itself. My only worry is that his view of humanity is a negative one.”

“How so?” Stiles asked.

Scott frowned. “He thinks we are a barbaric, selfish, and rudimentary species.”

“Well, isn’t he correct?”

Dr. McCall glared at him briefly as they stepped off the lift onto the twelfth floor. “I’ve been trying to sway his opinion, so you can keep comments like those to yourself. But he also views himself apart from us, so I don’t want you to speak to him in a way that confirms his belief that he’s not human. I want him to think of himself as one of our kind. Don’t be sarcastic or condescending. He feels threatened by things he doesn’t understand.”

“Sounds human enough to me,” Stiles remarked absently before adding, “Have you done a cerebral scan yet? I’d love to take a look at that brain.”

“No. I’ve not yet performed any physical tests; only verbal examinations to check his reasoning skills mostly. He’s surprisingly emotional, but at the same time it seems he can’t wrap his mind around illogical ideas. Everything has to have meaningful justification or he views it as irrelevant.”

“So he has the mind of a scientist,” Stiles said with a smile. “We should get along great.”

As they rounded on the doors to the lounge and mess hall areas, Scott had them pause briefly. “Listen, just be nice to him. Please? I’ve explained the golden rule to him; do unto others.”

“I bought him a meal that most people today don’t get to experience in their entire lives. How nice do you want me to be?” Stiles mocked jokingly.

Scott rolled his eyes and sighed. “Okay, okay. Let’s get this introduction over with.”

They entered the mess to find Isaac sitting patiently at one of the many tables. He scanned them silently, paying closer attention to Stiles. His expression was relaxed and mostly blank. The cyborg did feel anxious, but thought that conveying this would be impolite, as Scott had tried to give him a crash course in human etiquette. He rose as they approached and extended his hand with a small smile and a nod.

“Hello Dr. Stilinski. My name is Isaac. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” he said in a light, pleasant tone.

Stiles smiled in return and took his hand after setting down the food in his arms. “Likewise. Please, call me Stiles.”

After shaking hands, Isaac nodded curtly and sat back down, waiting to be addressed.

“I do apologize for my actions during the events from earlier,” Stiles continued. “I was only looking out for my friend here.” He patted Scott’s shoulder.

Isaac stared at him as he replied, “I don’t fully understand, but Scott assured me that no harm was meant by it. I’m having a difficult time understanding why personal relationships are important above common kindness to all. Scott attempted to explain that for many people, one’s friends and family are more important than strangers, but I feel that is nonsensical and counterproductive to the advancement of the human species. Why wouldn’t you simply treat everyone the same?”

Stiles smirked and glanced to Scott before he said, “I _like_ this one! Can we keep him? _Please_?!”

Scott snorted as he tried to keep from laughing, and Isaac just looked lost. “Did I say something amusing?” he asked cautiously.

Scott began to speak, but he was cut off by the Chief Engineer. “No, your response was fascinating and brilliant. It was both scholarly and philosophical. I’m amazed that intelligence of an artificial can be so thought-provoking. Well done, friend!”

The cyborg grinned shortly and diverted his gaze, feeling the very human emotion of pride. The compliment made him realize that he’d been wrong about the doctor, and the age-old metaphor came to mind; ‘ _Judge not a book by its cover_.’ Stiles didn’t seem nearly as threatening as he first believed him to be.

“Are you… my friends?” Isaac asked with hopefulness in his eyes as he looked between his creators.

Scott made a throaty ‘ _awww_ ’ sound, as if the question Isaac posed had been one of the most adorable things he’d ever heard. “Of course!” he said with a genuine smile.

Stiles was also grinning and added, “If that’s what you want.”

Isaac nodded enthusiastically. It made him feel good inside; great actually. Perhaps this was why humans held higher regards for those they considered friends over strangers. He was beginning to understand that logic and reasoning wasn’t always the solution to every problem. Emotions seemed to play a huge impact on humans, and the things he failed to grasp before were suddenly making much more sense. He would have to embrace emotion if he wanted to fit in as one of them, and it was something Isaac looked forward to.


	4. The Powers That Be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An emergency meeting of The Governor's Board is called to address the Alpha terrorist bombing from the previous night. Afterwards, Chairman Hale abuses his power over Matt Daehler.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay. I wrote two Sterek fics this weeks so I was running a little behind on this, but I think you'll find the update quite enjoyable. Gets kinda nasty. :D Will keep the notes brief. Appreciate the kind words and kudos you've been giving me. Thank you so much. - k

Chapter 4: The Powers That Be

The conference hall was grand in appearance. Located at the top of the twelve-story Capitol, the meeting location for The Governors Board was the crown jewel of the building. Glass panels composed the vaulted, dome ceiling, allowing the artificial sunlight to bathe the crisp, white walls in a brilliant glow. Circular columns made of white marble lined the expansive room and matched the marble tiles of the floor. The centerpiece was an equally impressive, horseshoe-shaped table with seating for thirteen. At each seat, a name plate for every member of the board faced toward the center, and the head of the table was reserved for Chairman Peter Hale.

He was a man with striking, chiseled features and a strong chin. Mid-thirties in his appearance, his hair was short, brown, and slicked back, and his eyes were a piercing, powdered blue. He wore a black, suit jacket, scarlet shirt, and a black, silk tie. Peter had held the Chairperson’s seat for eight years, and he had no intention of giving it up anytime soon. Public opinion of him was a popular one, but his Governors’ support was more split than he liked. Loyalty was a commodity he required to remain the executive officer of the United Earth Conglomerate, and his sway over the board had been dwindling in recent years. None of them had yet challenge his seat, for he was a powerful man with many resources, but he knew it was only a matter of time if he couldn’t put an end to Alpha. This had frequently become the topic of their discussions, and another emergency meeting was being held due to the terrorist bombing from the previous night.

To his right sat one of two people at the table that he felt threatened by. His name plate read _‘Dr. Alan Deaton, Nemeton Corp.’_ and he was the most public face of The Governors Board. Dark skin and bald on top, he appeared a few years older than Peter, and as smooth and calculating as Peter was, Alan was pensive and charismatic. His demeanor alone made Peter constantly question his motives, simply because he was so very difficult to read. Dealing with Alan was like playing Russian Roulette; at times he was very agreeable, but there were also times that he publicly scrutinized Chairman Hale, positioning himself in direct opposition. This was terribly unnerving for Peter, because the only person cunning enough and brass enough to challenge him was this one man whose loyalty could not be bought.

Beyond Alan was a pretty, thin brunette with big, doe eyes and a gentle smile. Her plaque read _‘Dr. Jennifer Blake, Darach Laboratories’_ , and she was one of the few people at the table that Peter actually did trust. She was deep in his pocket, and unlike Alan, her loyalty was purchased in full. They came to rely on one another in a ‘ _you scratch my back and I’ll scratch yours_ ’ type of relationship. Both had secrets, some quite unsavory, and so they became close allies in the mutual understanding that each could bury the other under a mountain of incriminating evidence.

Beside her sat a much older, bald gentleman of Japanese descent. His name was Katashi Matsushita, and he was the President of Silverfinger Financial Group. His company ran the global stock exchange from behind the scenes, and he was the most wealthy of the lot. Katashi had his hands in many investments; some of which were not entirely legal. He and Peter did not get along well, but that did not stop Peter from trying to sway Katashi’s opinion of him every chance that came about. The major difference between the two men was that Peter used members of the board in many of his schemes, but Katashi prefered to keep his darker business ventures away from his work with the other Governors. Most of them had no idea that Katashi’s hands were soiled, and he prefered to keep it that way despite Peter’s insistent advances.

Continuing on Katashi’s right was a very youthful man who seemed both charming and perhaps a little arrogant if not bordering narcissistic. He appeared no older than a late teenager, with dark, cleanly cut hair, flawless skin, pale blue eyes, and handsomely elegant. His name plate read _‘Jackson Whittemore, Whittemore Enterprises’_. Jackson was the newest Governor on the board and a young entrepreneur. Peter had yet to form any real opinion of him, having only known him for five months. The boy was witty and very observant, but the Chairman was unsure of how clever he was. This made Jackson neither friend nor foe, but someone to keep at arm’s length for the time being.

Further along sat Scott’s mother, Dr. Melissa McCall of Healthcare Express Manufacturing. She had lush, curly black hair, olive skin, and cheekbones for days. Melissa was naturally beautiful without having to try very hard, even with subtle age lines that showed a woman of her early forties. Peter was attracted to Melissa, but she was the epitome of honesty and virtue. They’d gone on a few dates in the past, but after realizing how good-natured she seemed, he opted against pursuing anything further. Under the surface, Peter was not a good man after all, and being intimate with her would mean exposing the side of him that was better left to the shadows.

At the end of the row was another younger gent with thick, sandy-colored hair and boyish looks. His plaque read _‘Matt Daehler, Photoconic Media Inc.’_ His claim to fame was in advertising and photography, but his company then branched out to an ever expanding media market. After striking a major deal with Global Comm., Matt’s company exploded, and with it his wealth and connections. This ultimately led to securing his own seat on The Governors Board. Peter found that the boy was easily manipulated, and not long after becoming one of the top thirteen most influential people in the world, Peter took Matt under his wing. He had since become Peter’s puppet, and although Matt had realized early on that he was being used, he did not have the power to end Peter’s noose-like grip on him. Now he was nothing more than a source of personal favors for Chairman Hale, and the occasional piece of ass. Peter had a thing about bending Matt over that very conference table and exercising his authority in the physical sense.

On Peter’s left side were the other six Governors, beginning with Bobby Finstock of Global Comm. Markets. This jolly yet cynical man inherited the massive, communications corporation from a long line of Finstocks, but Bobby’s passion for sports set apart his reign over the family business. Some years back, he created the most popular game of the times called Digital Colosseum. It was derived heavily from the thousand year old sport of lacrosse, however adding elements of even more ancient gladiator-style combat. It is broadcasted across the Global Comm. Network and viewed by more than two billion people every match, with the tournament finals each season drawing in closer to double that per game. His views on governing often lie with those of Dr. Deaton, however, he is afraid of Peter and is sometimes bullied by him into siding with the Chairman.

Continuing down the line was the mother of Kira Yukimura, Noshiko. She ran Yukimura Pharmaceuticals and designed Eternity seventy years ago. This immortality pill skyrocketed her to fame and fortune, which led to her seat at the table. She is the Governor longest to hold her chair, and her opinion is highly valued by the public. Peter did not trust the doctor, finding her alliance with Alan to be disturbingly problematic. If he were to ever challenge Peter, and she voiced her support, it would be a serious hurdle to climb. So Peter gave Noshiko much of his attention to keep her complacent.

The phrase _‘keep your friends close and enemies closer’_ couldn’t have been more true of the next Governor. Kate Argent was the second most dangerous person at the table; the only difference separating her from Dr. Deaton was that she was allied with Peter. Kate was just as sly, just as corrupt, and possibly even more twisted than the Chairman was, but when putting their minds together, he and Kate were a force of swift reckoning. She was certainly no friend, rather a trusted enemy; a wickedly attractive, blonde, double-edged sword to be handled with the utmost care. He couldn’t achieve his goals without her brilliance, or her family arms business. The Argents ran the military and provided their weaponry, so the contracts he maintained with Kate were of the highest importance.

To Kate’s left sat another cautiously-labeled ally with the name of Adrian Harris, President of the Telluric Energy Company. A snob, bookish type with holo-specs, a pointy face, and an attitude equally as prickly, Peter accepted Adrian into his inner circle for his imaginatively dishonest methods; if Chairman Hale needed something done under the radar, Adrian was the person to turn to. He had connections in low places, using bribery, blackmail, and sometimes betrayal to achieve the things he desired, but this marked him as untrustworthy and loyal only if the personal gain was worth his while. Peter made sure Adrian was comfortable, like a well-fed viper, and in return received the Governor’s support and venomous intellect in matters of a devious nature.

Beyond him was John Stilinski, Stiles’ father and head of Beacon Industries. Peter found John to be extremely dull and unfit for his post. He was not much of a businessman nor a politician, but happened into the position after his wife’s untimely passing, who started B.I. from the ground up. John was a simple man with a good heart and common sense. He brought a level head to the table and was not one to automatically throw his support one way or the other without considering all the facts. Peter hardly gave him the time of day, feeling that John was absolutely no threat to him.

The final Governor was another youth and newcomer to the board, holding his seat for two years running. His plaque read _‘Danny Mahealani, Cybertech International’_ , and he was very attractive in appearance. He was tall and lean; trimmed, black hair topped a handsomely exotic face with tanned skin and large, dark eyes. Danny was good friends with Jackson Whittemore, although far more opinionated and outspoken. He maintained the voice of the less fortunate and donated annually over a billion credits to charities worldwide. His company created cutting edge technologies at reasonable prices to better help sustain a struggling population. He was an activist, humanitarian, and someone the Chairman couldn’t stand. In fact, Peter loathed him for the way he demonized greed and made the rest of the board look bad doing it. Many times he found himself resisting the urge to demand the boy shut his mouth when he criticized their lack of motivation to focus on issues effecting the underclasses.

The Governor speaking at the that moment was Katashi Matsushita, voicing his concern over the bombing. “… as many shareholders are in a panic that Alpha may begin assaulting other targets than the Yukimura factories. The Market is plummeting. The world is turning to us for security, but how can we tell them to rest easy when we cannot maintain an handle on this delicate situation? Your nephew is causing a very real problem for us.”

“I can assure you that security measures are being taken, Mr. Matsushita. Both Beacon Industries and Darach Labs are pulling their efforts to create new technologies to combat Alpha, as well as Argent Arms,” Peter answered smoothly. “Mr. Stilinski, The I.S.A.A.C. Project is currently in its final stages, correct?”

“Yes, Mr. Chairman,” John replied. “I received a report this morning that the subject was awakened successfully late last night and we will begin preliminary tests on his physical and mental capacities today. It’s too early to say for sure, but my Project Director believes him to be a promising candidate for the Military Division’s infiltration mission. We’re still weeks out before we’ll have any definitive data, but it’s likely he will be ready for combat training much sooner.”

“That’s promising news,” Peter stated. “I’m sure the General will be happy to hear.” He turned his attention across the table to Jennifer and asked, “What of the Proto Kanima?”

“We’re ahead of schedule. The frame will be completed by the end of the week and we may proceed to outfit it with the telluric engine as soon as that is completed.”

Peter nodded and looked to Adrian. “And you’re prepared for delivery, Mr. Harris?”

He adjusted his hologram glasses and replied, “Of course.”

Peter smirked. “Mr. Matsushita, please inform your shareholders to relax. The situation is under control and soon my nephew will no longer be a threat to anyone.” Katashi’s expression soured slightly and he sat further back in his chair before the Chairman continued. “Now, Mrs. Yukimura, I do extend my sincere apologies for the loss of another of your properties. I am told the location of the new factory you’re building will not be disclosed to the public?”

“That is correct, Mr. Chairman,” she stated. “The new Eternity plant will be disguised as a typical office building in a suburban area, and we are continuing to work with Miss Argent to tighten security at our three remaining plants.”

“Very good. Is there any other business to address?” Peter asked to the group.

Danny cleared his throat. “Has anyone else heard reports out of the Colombia Dome?”

“I’ve not seen anything,” Peter answered.

Danny frowned. “May we speculate on rumors coming out of Bogota that there are growing riots in the streets instigated by Alpha cells in the area?”

“We don’t speculate on rumors, Mr. Mahealani. Until I either receive a report on my desk or watch it on the news, I wouldn’t wish to give Alpha anymore fuel,” Peter stated thoughtfully. “Need I remind everyone at this table that we control the largest military force humanity has ever known? Even in the unlikely event that a small, civil uprising occurs, it will be dealt with promptly and with the full might of the U.E.C. We must maintain order and stability in these troubled times. Do I make myself clear?”

No one chose to backtalk the Chairman and he nodded. “I thought so. This meeting is adjourned.”

The Governors rose from their seats, accept for Alan, Katashi, Danny, Kate, and Noshiko. They simply vanished; having been nothing more than lifelike, holographic images being broadcasted into the meeting from other locations by unseen projectors in the large table itself.

Peter called after Matt, “Mr. Daehler, a word please?”

Matt’s expression sank considerably as he watched the others file out of the room.

Peter pressed a button on his desktop and the door locked once they were the only two left. “Is there any truth to those rumors?” he asked as he relaxed into his chair and began rubbing his groin.

Matt diverted his eyes and maintained a distance between them. “What do you mean?” he replied timidly.

“You control the media, and I assume if there is truly rioting in the streets of Bogota, you’d know about it.”

Matt touched his left forearm nervously. “I can find out.”

“That’s a good lad,” Peter sighed as he continued to grope himself. A wickedly sly smile graced his lips as he said, “I’ve been so tense all morning, having to deal with this terrorist attack. I think you need to come here and help me relieve this tension.”

Matt frowned. “Peter, I don’t want to do this anymore. You treat me like your personal whore and I’m tired of it. This isn’t professional.”

Peter’s smile turned into a sinister smirk as his eyes narrowed. “I could replace you so easily, Matt. Don’t you realize that? I could point my finger at any random schmuck on the street to have your job, and not just on the board. I’d have you removed from your own company, your assets frozen, stripped of _everything_ … I didn’t ask if it was what you wanted. I’m telling you. Come here and get on your knees. _Now_.”

The youth gulped as the color drained from his face. Matt knew that Chairman Hale didn’t make idle threats and he didn’t bluff. When it first started going on, Matt thought himself special and enjoyed the attention Peter gave him. After realizing he was only being used, he wanted no part of it, but because he couldn’t risk losing everything he worked so hard to achieve, he’d been reduced to a the man’s bitch; that’s all he was and he knew it.

The Governor dragged his feet as he approached Peter, but did as directed. He lowered onto his knees and pulled open the Chairman’s fly, hoping to get it over with as quickly as possible. It might have turned him on in the past as he withdrew Peter’s impressive erection. It was long, thick, and smooth, and anyone aroused by the male form would have jumped at the opportunity to wrap their lips around it, but Matt only found it humiliating now. He sucked on the head and stroked the shaft enthusiastically, attempting to finish Peter off with haste, but the Chairman fisted his hair in a vice-like grip and slowed his pace considerably.

“Don’t wear out your jaw so fast,” Peter taunted. “We’re going to be here for a while.”

Matt felt his stomach drop at the words, and Peter forced his face down deeper along his stiff cock. The tip pressed against the back of his throat, and the boy gagged; eyes glistening with tears immediately. Peter used his hold on Matt’s hair to control the speed. He lifted the Governor’s head, and his lips slid up the fleshy knob before he pushed his skull back down; again plunging his hard penis into Matt’s sensitive throat. He repeated this over and over until the youth was crying and choking, but it only seemed to excite Peter more.

Chairman Hale had never been so rough with him, and the more Matt struggle to avoid being gagged, the more aggressively Peter would slam the back of his head down, impaling Matt’s mouth and fucking his throat raw. He didn’t allow Matt to raise his head back up, holding him in place and forcing his cock to remain in the boy’s airway. He pinned him there for much longer than necessary, grinding the head of his prick against Matt’s throat. It was gagging him and preventing him from breathing. When Peter finally did lift Matt's head slightly, he sucked down air through his nose, but with it excess saliva from his mouth went down his windpipe as well. He choked on it and almost vomited, but managed to swallow it down.

Matt sobbed and whimpered with tears streaming down his face, but Peter didn’t seem to care at all. He only gave him long enough to take a few breaths before he repeated the process all over again. This went on for some time; at least a half hour of it, however, the youth’s throat had become numb and he reached a point that he no longer gagged on Peter’s manhood. He managed to time it so that he could draw a breath here and there, and soon the Chairman was forcing him to bob up and down so quickly that it didn’t matter. He would cum soon and this nightmare would end.

As predicted, Peter began panting huskily as he drew closer. He held Matt’s head with both hands and stood from his chair so that he could thrust into him. Peter drilled Matt’s throat with his erection. His balls tightened and he grunted, “ _Fuck_.” Matt felt the dick throb in his mouth as Peter clenched his kegel to make the orgasm that much stronger. He groaned with pleasure as he finally came; jizz erupting down the boy’s esophagus. Shot after salty shot filled Matt’s mouth and he swallowed it down as the man’s thrusts slowed.

The shaft pulsed between the Governor’s lips a few times more as the last bits of cum gushed out, and Peter again pushed the head flush against the back of his throat. His body spasmed at the sensitivity before he withdrew his member and smeared what was left on the tip to the youth's mouth. Still gripping Matt’s hair, he jerked his head back so that his face pointed up at him, and Peter slapped him with his swollen, glistening cock again and again. He then rested his testicles on Matt's lips and let his dick lay across his face. The overall gesture was blatant. _‘You are mine,’_ without words. Matt’s eyes were dead as he stared up at him and took the humiliation. He'd never been treated so disrespectfully and felt nothing but hatred for the Chairman after that.

Peter chuckled condescendingly at him before zipping himself up and sitting back down. Matt rose and didn't even bother to try to fix his now wild hair. He only wished to leave at once. Peter pressed the button to unlock the door from his workspace and said, “Mr. Daehler, I expect you to contact me within the hour about Bogota.”

Matt didn’t acknowledge him. He was headed straight to the nearest lavatory to throw up. He felt too ill to speak, but Peter didn’t need him to speak; he simply required him to obey. As much as Matt would have liked to do the opposite, he did contact Peter as ordered to let him know that Danny’s sources were correct, but it hadn’t made the news because the entire Colombia Dome was under lockdown. Bogota was in revolt.

 


	5. Demon Hacker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alpha makes contact with Demon Hacker to further their agenda.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Thanks for keeping along thus far if you're still following. Not as hefty of a chapter this week, but the following should turn out quite lengthy. I'm going to get started on it right away to make sure I finish it by next weekend. Also happy Mother's Day! :D Hope everyone enjoys time with their mom tomorrow. Thanks again and enjoy! - k

Chapter 5: Demon Hacker

[ **[x](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MFlTC7onqHc)** ]

Derek Hale did not wish for the life he was dealt. He never intended to become a freedom fighter. He disliked that many considered him to be the most dangerous person alive. He was not a terrorist, nor was he a revolutionary. He didn’t even like politics and was as far from an activist as one could be. Derek had plans, wanting no more than to settle down with his lover in a secluded retreat that only his family’s wealth could afford. He didn’t want the criminal spotlight, but as a man fated by circumstance when he discovered the dirty secrets of his Uncle Peter six years ago, all that changed. He was forced to leave his love and life behind to expose the corruption of the world.

The raven-haired man pondered his past as he stared up at the expansive, hologram board before him. Dozens of transparent menus colored in red were layered at different levels and shifting across the wall. Among them were videos of current media events and political addresses, messages from other Alpha cells from around the globe, and streams of data and information flowed underneath the menus. He sat in the dimly lit room gazing over them, occasionally interacting with one by pulling it nearer to him to get a better look. This was the Alpha Network Control Center, and it was Derek’s duty to continuously monitor and maintain every aspect of the organization from that location.

He was fit and in peak, physical shape; his tall, solid frame packed with taut muscles and he was a handsome individual. Aged to his early thirties, Derek had a striking jaw and pronounced chin just like his uncle’s, but his cheekbones sat higher on his face, his brows were much thicker and woollier, and he had scruffy stubble for facial hair. The skin around his eyes appeared slightly spotted and scarred from his recent injury, and the eyes themselves were both an unnatural shade of electric-blue. He’d been blinded and his eyes replaced by cybernetic, optical sensors that mimicked human sight. He was still growing accustomed to them and was disoriented by fluorescent lighting; thus the reason he sat in the dark with the holo-board illuminated in a more soothing shade of scarlet.

A ping sounded suddenly and he glanced over his shoulder. “Open,” he stated shortly and the wall slid apart behind him. Light poured into the room from the corridor beyond, and Derek winced as he shielded his eyes with his hand. His younger sister, Cora, stepped into the space and the large panel closed behind her.

“Still having that much trouble with luminescence?” Cora asked softly.

Derek only nodded and turned his attention back to the board.

“How long have you gone since you let them rest?” she pressed as she stepped up behind him and placed her palms to his shoulders. She massaged him and he sighed, allowing his head to lull as the girl rubbed his neck.

“Maybe five or six hours,” he responded.

Cora frowned. “Don’t push yourself, Derek. Straining your vision for that long is not good on your implants. You need to adjust slowly.”

“I _have_ to run the Network,” Derek stressed. “Especially now that operations are moving forward. Updates are coming in at fifteen minute intervals from Bogota. I _have_ to monitor the situation closely to give them their orders.”

Cora sighed in a frustrated tone and replied, “Ethan could run the board for you. _I_ could run the board for you. Hell, you could even sit in here with us and we could read to you what is happening, and you could just relay to us what needs to be done. You _have_ to give your vision a break, Derek. You have to. Boyd said you shouldn’t be in here for more than two or three hours max.”

“Yeah, well, Boyd doesn’t have my job,” Derek snapped in an aggressive tone.

She stopped massaging his tense shoulders and slapped the top of his head before scolding him. “Hey! Don’t get belligerent with me. We all know the pressures you face. That’s why you are our leader, but if Boyd says no more than three fucking hours, you better damn well listen. Understand me?”

Derek turned in his roller chair and glared at her. He scoffed and lowered his head in sour defeat. “Fine. I’m hungry anyway, but someone needs to run the board. If messages get backed up… I want Ethan in here with you. _And_ Donovan. He knows what’s going on and what orders need to be given.”

“Whatever you want us to do,” Cora said reassuringly. “Do you need help to your quarters?”

“No, I’ll make it fine. Just keep your eyes on that board and page the others to join you immediately.”

“Okay. Go rest. If anything important happens we’ll come get you.”

Derek nodded before pushing up from the chair and stating, “Sourwolf retiring command. Control Center under authorization of The Deputy. Voice code confirmation: Nineteen dash twenty dash nine dash twelve dash five dash nineteen.”

A chirp sounded and Derek sighed as he stepped up to the wall, but before making his exit he turned back to his sister and said, “Tell Donovan to pay close attention to Istanbul.”

“Trouble under the Turk Dome?” she asked.

Derek shook his head. “He’ll know what it means.”

)*(

[[ **x**](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BtdQkmjNzt0)]

A buzzer woke Derek up from the nap he’d taken. He lived in a one of the many underground apartments connected to the main facility of Alpha. There were only two divided areas within it; a shared kitchen/bedroom space with a small attached bathroom. He was one of the lucky few that didn’t bunk with another person. Most of the Alpha personnel shared their identical living quarters in pairs. There were no luxuries to be found there, not when all of the funding they received was being distributed directly into more important measures: Equipment upgrades, weaponry, communication encryption, etc.

He glanced around the darkened apartment groggily and rubbed his eyes with a yawn before fumbling to the bedside table for his watch to check the time. He’d been asleep for almost three hours. The buzzer sounded again and Derek groaned, “ _What_?”

Ethan’s voice came through the speaker overhead in the ceiling, “Sorry to disturb you. Parrish said you’d want to know when you received the message from Istanbul?”

Derek’s implanted eyes focused and he looked up at the speaker as if he were actually face to face with Ethan. “Yeah?”

“It just arrived.”

“Route it to my private terminal and standby,” Derek directed.

“Sure thing, boss,” Ethan replied. “You should be receiving it now.”

Derek rose from his bed dressed only in black, fitted boxerbriefs, and moved quickly to the small desk at the end of his kitchen counter. He pressed the spacebar of the flattened keyboard that was integrated into the desktop, and a monitor-sized, holographic image appeared directly above the keyboard. He opened the message with the tap of his finger on the artificial screen, and quickly scanned the words. It read, _‘You’re in need of an electrician? I’m curious to know why. Accept comlink.’_

Derek’s expression sobered and he spoke to Ethan, “Can you check the attached link to make sure it’s a secure channel, Ethan?”

“Gimme a sec,” Ethan replied. After a brief pause he answered, “It’s voice only. The line is encrypted and secure. No way anyone is going to crack that coding. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Then he’s legit,” Derek commented absently.

“Who is it?” Ethan inquired with curiosity in his tone.

“The Demon Hacker.”

“No shit?!” Ethan yelped. “I can’t believe you’re gonna talk to him! I have such a boner for his work. You have no-”

“Ethan, I don’t care about your hacker, fanboy crush. You need to drop off now,” Derek interrupted.

“Okay, okay. Sure thing,” Ethan replied and a second later the click resonated through the speaker that signaled Derek was alone.

He turned his attention to the link provided and took a deep breath. He hoped they would be agreeable to his cause. The Demon Hacker was unpredictable by reputation and his acts of cyber terrorism were the stuff of legends. No one knew of his true identity, but he was the U.E.C.’s Most Wanted only second to Derek, himself. Derek had to stifle his level of excitement as he touched the link with his index finger. A new window opened that read, _‘Dialing…’_ and then _‘Connected’_ after a few moments.

“This is Derek Hale of Alpha. I’m very happy you replied,” he said toward the screen.

There was a brief pause, and then a smooth, English accent came through, “I know who you are and you know who I am. The two most dangerous men alive finally greeting one another for the first time. I’m sure you’re as unimpressed as I so let’s skip the formal introductions. The question on my mind is the why. Why do you require my services, Mr. Hale?”

Derek was taken aback by how brash Demon Hacker was. “Right down to business then. I require a hack program capable of cracking Global Comm.’s firewall. I understand you are the only person alive who may be able to help me.”

The man’s response was almost immediate. He chuckled in amusement and said, “How very _curious_. I’d ask for what purpose you’d need such a program, but with the upcoming finals of Digital Colosseum, I wonder if you intend to broadcast a message? An estimated five billion will be tuning in to that game. You would have the attention of two-thirds the global population.”

Derek was impressed by the hacker’s reasoning skills. “How’d you guess?”

“If I wanted to push an agenda onto the minds of as many as possible, that’s how I’d do it. Quite brilliant. But you are also going to _infuriate_ your uncle if you go through with it. Dictator Peter won’t rest until your head is on a spear posted in front of the Capitol. Is your organization ready for war, Mr. Hale? Because that’s what you’ll be starting if you do something like this.”

Derek grinned at Demon Hacker’s choice in insults for his uncle. “Even with the media being filtered heavily, you are a well-informed man and I’m sure you’ve been hearing things out of Colombia… War has already begun.”

There was another pause before the Brit stated, “It won’t be cheap. Creating a program like that with in mind your intent… Firewall cracks are expensive enough due to the time-sensitive nature. You’ll want to get in and out with haste, but a hard crack for Global Comm.’s? I’ll also have to pay my runner to bring it to you, and there’s my own personal expense involved. What’s something like this worth to you?”

“We are very well funded. Price is no concern to me,” Derek replied.

“Then I will send you the cost and transaction details at a later date. Of course, before the Colosseum finals. Mr. Hale, this is the only time you’ll ever hear my voice. If our paths cross again in any future business ventures, I hope you realize this was a one-time courtesy out of due respect that I contact you like this.”

“I do and I’m very appreciative,” Derek stated.

“I must say it was far more of a pleasure than anticipated. I can’t express how excited I’d be with the end of the U.E.C., or at the very least Peter. Best of luck to Alpha’s endeavors.”

“Likewise and farewell,” Derek finished as the connection dropped. He sighed and had to shake off the tingling feeling that went up his arms. He was one step closer to exposing his uncle for the monster he truly was, and it felt good. For six years they’d been struggling and hiding, planning and waiting for the opportunity to take action, and the time was finally upon him. Alpha was no longer going to remain in the shadows of conspiracy.

Derek opened a new window on the holo-screen marked as _‘Void’_. “Record voice-to-text mail. The lights in Istanbul went out, but I was able to contact the electrician and he’s agreed to take the job. Power should be running before the dinner party begins. We shall continue to prepare the feast as planned… I look forward to seeing you again… End messaging and send via Void Channel.”

Once finished, he shut off his terminal and readied to take a quick shower by dropping the tight, black trunks that clung to his hips down to the floor. “Open link to the Control Center,” he said as he approached the lavatory, and after a chirp sounded he added, “Ethan?”

“Yes, sir?” Ethan replied through the speaker.

“I will be returning to C.C. in ten. We have _work_ to do.”


	6. Record Breaker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isaac is taken to the Military Division's Advanced Training Simulation Arena to test his physical capabilities. Scott reconciles with Allison after he and Stiles argue heatedly over Scott's attachment to Isaac.

Chapter 6: Record Breaker

[[ **x**](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Kr3w3ZQoqGM)]

Scott couldn’t help himself but smile warmly at the blonde, cybernetic lifeform sitting across from him in the flying, luxury sedan. Isaac gaped out the window in awe of what his eyes beheld. The cityscape of the Sacramento District spanned as far as the horizon in every direction. Massive, multi-layered structures and skyscrapers dozens of stories tall dotted the midday view of the seemingly endless metropolis. Thousands of hover vehicles, all shapes and sizes, zipped in-between the towering buildings like tiny bees going about their business to support the giant hive in which they lived.

Since the two weeks Isaac had been awake, he’d taken to fidgeting and wrung his hands nervously across his knees as he stared at the overwhelming sights that bombarded his senses. This was his first time outside B.I. Facility Nine, and Scott related him to a young, curious child as he watched Isaac look on in sheer fascination.

Isaac realized the doctor was watching him and he grinned back. “What?” he asked as his cheeks heated from blushing.

Scott only smiled wider and shook his head. “Are you okay? Excited?”

Isaac nodded and glanced back out the tinted window. “I find human innovation very impressive. What it took to build all this… it’s just impressive.”

“Pretty much every bit of land under the California Dome is metropolitan. Parts of the Redding District in the north have a few natural areas left, and there is a lovely forest of redwoods along the coast still mostly intact. It’s south of Eureka. I feel like I’m forgetting… Oh, Death Valley is untouched.”

Stiles looked at Scott skeptically. “ _Untouched_?”

Scott rolled his eyes. “Okay, fine. After the climate-controlled biosphere was put up around it, and we converted the desert into a tropical rainforest, yes, there is no construction allowed within the biosphere. We imported flora and fauna from all over the world to create the only naturally sustainable ecosystem of that scale. I think it goes to show that humans are capable of preserving nature just as much as we tend to destroy it.”

Stiles nudged the cyborg’s ribs. “Check out my side.”

Isaac leaned over him and pressed his nose to the window. His eyes lit up at the Sierra Nevadas in the distance. The expansive, urban jungle went right up into the mountains, even covering the tallest peaks. His lips parted at the breath-taking view.

“What’s that?” he asked and pointed at the massive building that rose above the rest in the district.

Scott peered in that direction and replied, “That’s… Whittemore Tower. One of the Governors works there. We have a few contracts with him. Jackson’s mostly in real estate, but he has his fingers in everything it seems. His partnership with Cybertech is quite interesting. They’ve created some impressive technologies in recent months. He also has a taste for exotic cars, and his automotive branch, WhittoMaker, builds state-of-the-art, luxury hovercrafts that are _sickeningly_ fast. You bought your dad one, right Stiles?”

“Yeah… last year on his birthday,” Stiles answered absently.

Scott frowned at his best friend’s tone. He knew something was bothering him because he’d been acting more withdrawn than usual. Stiles often had a lot on his mind; too much going on inside his head to give anyone or anything his undivided attention. Those who didn’t know him thought he was rude for it, but the people closest to him knew that was just how he operated and loved him anyway. Scott, being one of those select few, never pressed him about it and gave him his space. If he was handling something personal and needed help, he’d come to Scott eventually anyway.

“And what’s _that_?” Isaac inquired and pointed to another structure. It appeared to be an extremely large, power plant of sorts; two turbine generators the size of stadiums rotating at breakneck speeds.

Stiles happened to spot what the cyborg had motioned to first and said, “Those are the Telluric Generators. There is one in each district. They provide power to the grid while simultaneously scrubbing the carbon from the air. We can’t fly too close to them or the wind tunnel they create would suck us in. None of the domes around the world could be maintained without them.”

“We’d all suffocate within a few days if they stopped working,” Scott added.

“Couldn’t you use those to purify the toxic ozone beyond the domes?” Isaac asked thoughtfully.

“In theory, but the cost and man hours to build just one is astronomical. It’d take all of our remaining resources to build enough to cleanse the planet,” Scott answered him. “We’d all die out long before we could reap the rewards.”

Stiles scoffed. “So instead we opt for a slow death inside our artificial bubbles of ignorance.”

Scott rolled his eyes and glanced over his shoulder at their driver. “How long do we have to go?”

“Arrival time is in forty-seven minutes,” the chauffeur replied.

“Thank you,” Scott said politely. He relaxed in his comfortable seat and smiled when he noticed Isaac had settled back into his own across from him. The blonde grinned before looking out his window again. Isaac had such a pretty smile. A part of Scott wished they didn’t have to give the cyborg to the military. It was their money that created him and from the very start of the project the doctor was aware that Isaac belonged to them, but in the two weeks that he’d spent getting to know Isaac, he found himself smitten by him. He had to tell himself over and over that once Isaac’s mission was underway, he’d probably never see him again; that if he was able to infiltrate Alpha and assassinate Derek Hale, he’d just be integrated into some covert, task force and be sent on assignments all over the world. Isaac was a super spy. That’s what they designed him to be, and it wouldn’t end with one successful mission… not by a long shot.

)*(

[[ **x**](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JZ0SvzhEO1Q)]

As the sedan descended north of the Las Vegas District, Isaac felt a budding excitement growing within him. The Military Division’s testing facility was their destination, and this was to be his first of many combat exercises. Isaac had never before gotten the chance to flex his physical abilities, and although he could not understand the rationale behind it, he wanted to show off for his creators, particularly Scott.

In his brief time alive, he tried to excel at everything he attempted if only to ensure the Project Director was pleased with him. The bond he shared with Scott was the reason for Isaac’s existence. No one made him aware of the things to come. As far as he knew, he had a mission to accomplish and if he failed his mission, it would reflect poorly on Scott’s work. From Isaac’s perspective, that was not an option; he couldn’t let Scott down.

The craft turned sideways before landing gracefully on the docking pad below. Waiting for them was Lieutenant Allison Argent with a cheerful smile. Scott was the first to greet her after stepping onto the platform.

“Ally, how are you?” he asked as he embraced her if not a tad bit awkwardly. He still had his reservations about working with his ex, but not to the extent of their first meeting at Facility Nine.

She patted his back as they hugged and replied, “I’m exceptionally well and excited to see what your boy’s capable of. The site has been buzzing all morning.”

“I hope we don’t disappoint,” Scott said as they parted.

Stiles quickly took his place and hugged her as well. “Ally… always a pleasure to see your bright face.”

She giggled softly. “You are such a charmer! If you only liked girls…”

Stiles snorted at her remark. “Oh, _honey_ , you’ve been down that road once already. Let’s not even entertain a second runaround.”

They both laughed simultaneously, but Scott covertly rolled his eyes at them. Getting Allison and Stiles together never worked in his favor. They became feisty when around one another, and Scott usually ended up the target in which they aimed their sass. _‘Why me?’_ he thought.

“And this must be Isaac,” Allison acknowledged the cyborg lastly. “The Military Division is very pleased to have you.”

Isaac shook her hand and nodded. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lieutenant. I’m happy to be here.”

“Good. How was your flight?” Allison stated as the they walked toward the entrance of the dock. She then handed out guest tags to the doctors, although not presenting one to Isaac.

“Not too long,” Scott replied. “Only about an hour. Isaac seemed to enjoy it. This is his first time outside.”

Isaac grinned and said, “The vistas from up high are… _breathtaking_? Is that the right word?”

Scott nodded reassuringly before he continued. “It’s astonishing how well he’s adapting to the human experience. I can only imagine how life must be like to see things through his eyes.”

Allison smiled thoughtfully and responded, “The first time above the districts… seeing the cities stretch for miles and miles… I see it on almost a daily basis and still really enjoy gazing out the window at the views.”

Once inside the facility, the four of them chatted casually as Allison led them to what appeared to be a massive, empty hanger. Mounted strips of electronic sensors and projectors coated the walls, and a lighting system similar to the one the California Done used to mimic artificial sun and moonlight ran along tracks fixed to the ceiling.

“This is the billion dollar training arena?” Stiles asked.

Allison smirked. “Yeah. The Advanced Training Simulation Arena. Everyone here just calls it the Pit though. Fifty thousand laser projectors line the walls. We can create any type of virtual environment and it looks 98% realistic; mostly used for urban environments.”

“Ninety-eight?” Stiles said and cocked his left brow.

“The holographic engine has a difficult time rendering some of the textures we created. It’s only noticeable when projecting desert or subterranean loadouts; basically when you get down to individual sand or limestone grains. It’s impossible to tell unless you’re inspecting the imagery up close, so we haven’t bothered making the adjustments. It’d cost too much to upgrade each individual projector.” Allison turned her attention to Isaac as two technicians approached them. “Isaac, you need to be outfitted for the trials. Please accompany them to the Pit armory and they’ll get you geared up, okay?”

He nodded and glanced at Scott with an expression conveying excitement before following the technicians silently to a staging area under the glass observation deck that was mounted in the north wall of the hanger.

The lieutenant then motioned for the doctors to go with her. “We’ll be monitoring him from up there. We have refreshments, coffee or tea, pastries… maybe a bit of fruit, available for you. It’ll be about a half hour before we can begin. It takes a while for the projectors to heat up and the techs will need to explain how it all works to Isaac.”

[[ **x**](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kGs-td1ptVM)]

“Something you mentioned on our call yesterday that I wasn’t able to address at the time,” Scott began as he and Stiles fell in toe with her, “was that even though this is a controlled environment and you’ve taken every precautionary measure to ensure his safety, I’m concerned about Isaac over-exerting himself. The extent of physical testing he’s undergone is running a treadmill for a very brief time. I’m not entirely certain how his body will react to prolonged exposure to stress and endorphins. We will need him to take regular breaks to monitor his vitals and scan his A.I. core for anomalies.”

Allison smiled and nodded. “Of course. Whatever he needs. The body armor he’ll be wearing has sensors within to monitor his vitals. We can display those up in the control room, and the exercises we’ve lined up for him today aren’t very strenuous. Mostly target practice and covert operations; sneak through the obstacle course without being detected. That kinda stuff. If he feels capable and you think he’s ready, we can move onto tactical combat scenarios, but that’s entirely up to you.”

“I personally think it’d be a great idea to push him,” Stiles stated. “We need to see what he’s capable of. He is a weapon after all.”

Scott frowned. “We’ve all seen how he reacts under stress. That was not a pleasant outcome. I just don’t want him to have another panic attack. I say we take it slow.”

Allison glanced back and forth between them uneasily. “Well, I’ll let you two decide the level of exertion he should undergo, but Stiles does raise a valid point. He is a weapon, but we have weeks of testing ahead of us and this is day one. There isn’t any need to push him beyond what you think he’s ready for.”

Stiles only shrugged. “It’s up to you, boss,” he directed at Scott. “I think you’re coddling him. You barely let him out of your sight. You won’t even let me run tests without being present. What are you going to do when we have to turn him over?”

Scott was taken aback by Stiles’ less than subtle jab. “He’s fragile-”

“No, he’s not,” Stiles interrupted harshly. “He’s dozens of times stronger than you or I, and far more intelligent. He’s not a weak child. Isaac’s an organic machine; a one-man army capable of things we can’t even comprehend. I’ve put up with it for two weeks, but shit’s gotta stop, Scott. Stop treating him like you’re his possessive mother.”

“ _Hey_!” Scott snapped defensively. “Allison, can we have a sec?”

“Sure,” she replied hastily. “When you’re ready, go through that door and up the stairs.” She quickly departed, not wanting to take part in any bit of that conversation.

Scott rounded on Stiles once the lieutenant was out of earshot. “What the hell was that about, Stiles? You’ve been on edge lately, and I’ve kept my mouth shut because I don’t pry into your personal life unless you ask for my opinion, but something’s been bothering you and your attitude is starting to piss me off.”

The Chief Engineer just rolled his eyes. “My problem is watching you treat Isaac like your new pet. I’m not going to hold my lip anymore. You know it’s true! I’ve seen the way you look at him. Yes, we’ve spent four years of our lives working on him. I get that he means something to you because he means something to me, but you’ve let it get personal, Scott. I’ve already spoken with Allison’s superiors. I recommended that they take Isaac today.”

Scott’s eyes widened. “You did _what_?!”

“He belongs to the military and he’s not raised any issues since we woke him up. The longer we keep him at the lab, the harder it’ll be for you to part with him. I can already foresee it.”

“You had no right! _I’m_ the Project Director and _I_ say when he’s ready to be released.”

“Get a hold of yourself!” Stiles sighed dramatically, and said in a softer tone, “I didn’t go behind your back to spite you, Scotty. You’re my best friend… I _need_ you to get your head back in the game. When was the last time you looked over the reports from the other projects? Have you even decided what we should take on after this one is finished? The paperwork on your desk is stacking higher every day, but you’re obsessing on this one thing… You are exactly right. You’re Beacon Industries Project Director, but you haven’t acted like it since he woke up. You have forty to sixty projects to manage at any given time. Did you know I lied to my father about this? He asked why your work is getting backed up and I told him you’re going through a rough break-up.”

Scott looked dumbfounded. “He… he asked about my work?”

“Yes, he did. He asked why your work was falling through the cracks, and I told him you’d been dating this guy for a while and were taking the break-up kinda hard,” Stiles replied.

“Why would you tell him that?” Scott inquired.

“If he knew you’re letting things slip because of this one project, he’d not be happy. He was a little more sympathetic believing you’re emotionally compromised… just in case he asks about it, his name is Tom and he owns a construction business.”

Scott couldn’t help but crack half a smile. “A construction business? You really thought that through, huh.”

Stiles snorted and grinned. “He was a guy I dated fairly briefly several years ago. I just needed something to go with spur of the moment.”

“By dated briefly, you mean-”

The engineer smirked and interjected, “Yes. Hooked up with.”

Scott only grimaced and sighed. “You’re right. I haven’t been keeping up with my work because of Isaac. I shouldn’t be so focused on this one project. Maybe he should remain here, but I will make that decision after we see how these exercises go. Okay?”

“Fine by me,” Stiles replied. They both seemed to relax as the tension subsided before Stiles threw his arm around Scott’s shoulders. “You’re a pain in my ass, you know that?”

Scott smiled fiendishly. “Only that one time and we were _really_ drunk.”

The youthful pair laughed together even though Stiles rolled his eyes. “I think we remember that night _very_ differently,” he stated. “What was it? Twelve years ago?”

Scott scoffed. “And just how do _you_ remember it?”

Stiles grinned at him and said, “For starters, I’m pretty sure it went the other way around.”

“No way! You don’t remember my move? The thing with the… You _remember_! How could you forget?!”

“I haven’t forgotten,” Stiles mused as his eyes softened. “It was sloppy… but nice.”

“We were both wrecked,” Scott carried on. “Of _course_ , it was sloppy. Remember the morning after?”

“Awkward as hell,” the engineer answered.

Scott giggled, “Yeah, it was.”

“I duno what you did, but my ass ached for like the whole next day,” Stiles groaned. “I told you you were too rough. _Man_ , you beat it up though.”

“You didn’t complain at the time. In fact, if I recall correctly… _Harder, harder. Right there. Don’t stop_ ,” Scott drawled as he attempted to mimic Stiles’ moans.

Stiles blushed slightly and grinned as he spoke. “I get vocal. I can’t help it.”

Scott eyed him over suggestively and asked in a hushed tone, “Why didn’t we ever… do it a second time? As far as lays go, it was really something, right? I mean, I thought we connected pretty well… _intimately_.”

Stiles shrugged. “We did, but we agreed that co-workers shouldn’t get involved no matter how good it was. I think also we didn’t want to ruin our friendship, ya know? It was like… we laughed nervously and changed the subject on the rare occasion that it was brought up again after that night… _Anyway_ …”

There was a pause and then they chuckled anxiously before the Project Director said, “Let’s forget we had this conversation and go upstairs.”

“Agreed.”

)*(

[[ **x**](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ncWQLibiclM)]

“Ally… Boys,” Gerard acknowledged them as he stepped into the observation deck, sipping a cup of hot tea.

They, of course, knew him from years ago when Scott dated Allison. Both he and Stiles were very familiar with the General.

“Sir,” Scott said and nodded courteously.

“You know I told you boys to call me Gerard,” the old man grumbled in reference to their past before turning his attention to Allison. “How’s he performing?”

“Outstanding,” she replied. “In the three trials we’ve given him, he’s shattered the course records.”

“Which ones?” Gerard asked.

“Marksmen, Infiltration, and Firefight. He’s on Lockdown right now. I’ve thrown a dozen tangos at him and he’s still not given up that position. His reflexes and ability to adapt under stress is like no soldier I’ve seen.”

The General nodded slowly and said, “Put him through I.T.”

Allison smirked. “First time in The Pit. You sure?”

Gerard motioned his cup of tea toward the control panel and repeated, “Put him through the I.T.”

“What’s I.T.?” Stiles asked with a curious expression.

“Impossible Trial,” Allison answered before ending the current session Isaac was on. The hologram field faded to the vacantly expansive arena. She spoke into the microphone, “Isaac, do you need a break before your next exercise?”

“No. I’m ready,” he stated into the headset he wore.

“Alright. The objective of your next challenge is to make your way to the evac site with precious intel on enemy surveillance, but standing in your path are two dozen armed militants, a sniper in one of the buildings, and three mechtanks. You’re equipped with a half-mag sidearm, a grenade, and no backup; no surrender.”

“Shit,” Stiles muttered.

Isaac nodded. “Affirmative.”

“Has anyone ever beaten this test? Has anyone even come close?” Scott inquired.

“No,” Allison replied. “The goal isn’t _actually_ to win. It’s to test your veracity for survival; how hard you’ll fight for the success of your mission even when knowing you’ll die.”

Scott took a deep breath as he looked down at the blonde cyborg nervously. _‘Come on, Isaac,’_ he said mentally. _‘Hold it together and show us what you’re made of.’_

Lieutenant Argent keyed in the sequence for the trial and the arena was transformed into a metropolitan street. Barricades of military vehicles littered the area and buildings with shattered windows lined the side opposite of the observation deck. Three mechs and twenty-four militants materialized in intervals down the roadway and along the sidewalks. All were frozen in place and awaiting the start.

“Isaac, just as before, the bullets and projectiles are not real, but if you are hit in a non-lethal part of the body, that piece of your armor will seize. If you are mortally wounded in the head or chest, the exercise will end,” Allison stated into the mic. Isaac gave the thumbs up before she continued. “Take cover, and when you’re ready, I’ll activate the simulation.”

Tension in the air grew thick within the control room as Isaac crouched behind a parked hover car. Scott wrung his hands anxiously and chewed his bottom lip. Stiles glanced to him from the corner of his vision and then back down at the cyborg. He rocked on his heels while folding his arms over his chest. “Anyone wanna make a wager?” he asked. Scott didn’t even acknowledge him, but Allison and Gerard appeared mildly curious.

“How many enemies he takes down before the I.T. ends?” Allison asked.

Stiles grinned. “I think he’s gonna beat it.”

Allison couldn’t restrain a giggle. “You’re not serious.”

“We designed him for this. If he keeps a level head, doesn’t freak out… he’ll take down every single target,” Stiles replied. “Right Scott?”

Scott remained quiet and still. He was focusing intently on the blonde in the hologram arena.

Allison waited a few seconds for Scott to respond, but when he didn’t she stated, “You may have designed him for this sorta thing, but we also designed this program to be unbeatable. He won’t do it. Not with those mechs. Not under sniper fire.”

[[ **x**](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GL1hM1HeJPM)]

“Then put your money where your mouth is, doll-face,” Stiles drawled at her.

“ _Enough_ ,” General Argent cut in abruptly. “Let’s begin.”

Allison straightened up and nodded. “Sir,” she muttered before initiating the exercise. All eyes snapped to Isaac as Allison said into the microphone, “You may begin.”

With his left hand, Isaac reached behind him and gripped hold of the bottom of the vehicle. He jerked his arm upward, and the hover car turned over on it’s side. He rose and kicked the underside with his right boot. The car barrel rolled violently forward, mowing over four soldiers as it went. Isaac then capped a round into the hydrogen fuel cell as it flipped. A realistic explosion followed once the cell ignited. Twisted, flaming metal collided with the first barricade as the men behind it took cover. One was not able to move quickly enough and was decapitated by a charred piece of shrapnel.

Scott’s eyes widened and his stomach dropped out. _‘Holy shit,’_ he thought at the same time Stiles exclaimed it out loud.

“You managed to calibrate the physics to match his strength?” the engineer asked excitedly.

“Yes,” Allison replied. “Close to it, anyway.”

During their brief exchange, Isaac leapt forward with a grace of a gazelle several feet above the smoking wreckage. A red targeting system appeared within his line of sight and he marked nine of the nearest militants in the same heartbeat. The cyborg unloaded the remaining nine rounds of the magazine in his pistol. Each bullet was a perfect head shot; dead centered between their eyes. As they fell, he discarded the sidearm and took the grenade in hand. While still soaring through the air, Isaac charted a path that would cause optimal damage, and hurled it to the right of three near the second barricade. It landed below an armored hovercraft. The explosion went off just as his feet touched the ground, and the vehicle flipped over, smashing the men standing next to it.

Isaac was fast and moved in constant, fluid motion. He somersaulted to the left of the street, scooping up a fallen assault rifle along the way and barely dodging a sniper round. He caught a glimpse of the bullet as it zipped past him. Able to map its trajectory back to the point of origin, the blonde sprayed a few rounds into one of the broken windows adjacent to where he popped up.

As the hidden gunman went down, Allison gasped, “That’s not possible! No one is that good.”

Scott had his hands pressed to the glass of the observation deck overlooking the carnage that took place below. “Come on. Come on,” he repeated over and over, not even realizing he was actually saying it out loud because of how amazed he was.

[[ **x**](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gOfN_s0puio)]

The cyborg continued along the street, dodging everything the soldiers could throw at him; even evading the gatling fire from the first mechtank. He lunged toward it fearlessly and his fist connected with the armored shell of the cockpit. The large, robotic, suit staggered backward. Isaac latched onto it’s right leg and swung it off its feet in a circular motion. He tossed it over his shoulder with unnatural strength. Its front side smashed down onto one of the soldiers near him. They were crushed under the weight; virtually equivalent to an elephant.

In the observation deck, none of them spoke; too enthralled by what they were witnessing to utter a word. Although the temperature was set comfortably, Scott was sweating. He worried that Isaac was over-exerting himself. He had no reason to feel this way because Isaac’s vitals hadn’t even fluctuated that much on the monitor. It was as if the blonde was barely making any effort at all.

Isaac laid waste to everything in his path, carrying an assault rifle in each hand. One by one, the soldiers were rapidly gunned down. There was no hesitation in his actions. As he neared the final barricade, the three remaining militants jumped him and attempted to subdue him with brute force. Isaac avoided a punch and spun on his left heel. In the same motion, he backhanded the first soldier to the ground while spin-kicking another across the side of their face. When he came about, he pulled the pin of a grenade attached to the last man’s hip and punched him squarely in the chest. The force knocked him off his feet, hurling him backward a dozen paces. He collided with one of the two mechs still in Isaac’s way.

The grenade detonated upon impact and caused the walking tank to be stagger, presenting an opportune moment to attack. Isaac swept it’s legs out from under it and as it fell, he shoulder-checked it to the side. The other mech locked onto Isaac and fired a barrage of shoulder-mounted rockets in his direction while he was distracted. Having little reaction time, Isaac cartwheeled and propelled himself through the air. His body flipped, twisted, and spun several times over as each rocket streaked by within inches. He came down on one knee just as multiple explosion went off behind him.

Stiles was cheering from the control room like a crazed fan at a sporting event. “Go, go, go!” he cried.

Scott held his breath not only for the excitement, but also because he noticed Isaac’s vitals spike as he approached the final mechtank. Gatling fire rained down on him, and Isaac had to take cover behind an armored hovercraft. He was breathing heavily as beads of sweat dotted his forehead. He felt strange, but he couldn’t fail. He couldn’t let Scott down.

Isaac’s eyes narrowed. He pushed the parked vehicle forward, using it as a shield as he marched toward the mech. Isaac front-flipped over the top of it and drop kicked the mech with both boots after his feet came overhead. The cockpit dented inward and the mech sailed back, crashing into the side of a building.

The simulation ended and the urban street vanished as it returned to the vacant hanger from before. Allison appeared stunned that he was able to best their exercise designed to be unwinnable. “No way…” she breathed.

Gerard finished his cup of tea. The look on his face harbored dark intent. “Save the replay and send it to me,” he said before turning to leave. Suddenly, Isaac’s vitals set off an alarm inside the control room, which gave the General pause. The cyborg collapsed to his knees and trembled uncontrollably as his vital signs on the monitor fluxed rapidly.

Scott was out the door and racing down the stairs two at a time before any of the others reacted. He was panicked. _‘Oh, god, please let him be okay.’_ He hurried to Isaac’s side just as the blonde swayed forward, and Scott managed to catch him. He steadied Isaac and cooed, “Calm down. You’re okay.” Isaac appeared ferral. His expression was like nothing Scott had seen before. His blue eyes were distant and it worried him. “Isaac, what’s wrong? Talk to me.”

The cyborg’s pupils dilated intensely and then shrunk a second later. His body relaxed immediately into Scott’s embrace. “Did I do well?” he asked weakly, wishing only for his creator’s approval.

[[ **x**](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7XW0v_R5uo8)]

Scott sighed in relief after it appeared Isaac was okay. “Yes. You did great. You really worried me there. Were you having another panic attack?” Isaac gazed off blankly. He felt light headed. Even with the mind of a supercomputer, he was unable to form a coherent thought. Scott just hugged him and whispered, “Everything’s going to be okay. Just breathe.”

Gerard, Stiles, and Allison had lined up behind them. The lieutenant asked, “He going to be alright?”

“Yeah,” Scott replied. “He’s just over-exerted. I told you he needed to start out slow. It was too much stress; pushed too hard too fast. He needs to rest-”

“I’ll be fine,” Isaac interrupted. “Stiles, can you run a diagnostic on my A.I. core? I don’t believe it is performing optimally. During the last minute I felt a lapse in my thought processors. Perhaps a glitch…”

“Sure,” Stiles said as he helped Scott assist him to his feet. “Come on. Let’s take a look.”

)*(

“I don’t detect any anomalies,” Stiles stated after completing the scan on Isaac. They’d moved to the infirmary after the incident in the training arena. Isaac sat on one of the operating benches while Stiles tinkered with a hand-held, electronic device. “How do you feel?”

Isaac gave thought to the question and replied, “I’m not experiencing anything out of the ordinary.”

While they conversed, Scott stood in the doorway with Allison at the opposite end of the room. She glanced between her ex and the cyborg curiously. Speaking soft enough that her voice wouldn’t carry, she said, “Your boy did phenomenal today.”

Scott smiled without taking his eyes off him. “He _did_.”

Allison paused briefly before asking, “Scott McCall, why do you look at him like that?”

The director blinked out of his gaze and turned to her. “You’re the second person that’s said that to me today. Am I not allowed to admire my work? I spent years of my life designing him; more than any painter or musician spends on one of their own works of art. He’s a masterpiece. Maybe a few bugs, but we’ll get all that sorted out in time.”

Allison looked back across to Stiles and Isaac before she asked calmly, “Who are you trying to convince?”

Scott just rolled his eyes. “It’s not like that.”

“I’m not judging you, Scott. He’s the perfect example of a male specimen, right? He’s gorgeous. Even I think he’s attractive… but I can tell the difference between looking at your work with pride and staring at someone with adoration. You never looked at me like that.”

Scott sighed deeply. “Ally… I’m gay. I loved you, but not the same way you loved me. I’m sorry how things went down. If there was ever a woman I could fall for, it’d have been you-”

“We don’t have to do this now,” Allison interrupted him.

“No, I want to clear the air. I loved you like I love Stiles. Staying up all night with you and cuddling and talking about the things we wanted to do; how we were going to make the world a better place… I miss that and I miss you, but at the time you knew it wasn’t romantic for me.”

Allison took the pin out of her ponytail and ran her fingers through her dark hair. She appeared both melancholy and thoughtful. “After the wedding it took me a long time to get over you and I still think about it ever so often. I wanted it to work out so badly. It sucked, Scott. Why did you agree to marry me if you couldn’t go through with it? That’s the question that has plagued me for years.”

“Because I thought I could,” Scott whispered. “I thought I could just accept it and try to be content with that life, but when I got to the altar, I got scared. I didn’t want to be that husband that sleeps with men behind his wife’s back because she couldn’t sate his lust. I didn’t want you to live with that either; having to spend the rest of your life knowing you weren’t enough for me. You deserve better than that, Ally. It wasn’t fair to either of us. I had to back out. I’m sorry that it hurt you, but if it came down to it, I’d make the same choice all over again. It wasn’t right of me to agree to the marriage in the first place. I know that. All I can do is ask for your forgiveness and hope that we can be friends again because I really do miss the hell outta you.”

Allison wiped the tears out of her eyes and had to take a moment to compose herself. She took a long, steadying breath as she pulled her hair back and re-pinned it in place. “Scott McCall, I miss you, too. I spent too long forcing myself to be angry with you. I should be the one to ask for forgiveness…”

Scott grasped her hand and gave it a ginger squeeze. “Can we be friends again? Not having you in my life for so long and then seeing you again makes me realize how much I want you in it. We were _so_ close… I want that again, or at least not feeling like I have to walk on eggshells around you.”

“No, I want that, too,” Allison replied with a tender smile. “Let’s bury the past and start again.”

Scott felt unbelievably relieved before changing the subject. “It’s much later than we intended to stay… Stiles and I should be getting back.”

)*(

[[ **x**](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MMyLu9_HQ6w)]

“We’ll need to return daily; continue to monitor his progress and make modifications to his A.I. core,” Scott advised, “but I don’t see any reason why he cannot remain on site to continue his training. I honestly could use a break from him so I can focus more on our other projects.”

Allison smiled, “We will take very good care of him. I suppose I’ll be seeing you two quite regularly. Maybe sometime I can slip away from the base long enough for us to have a few drinks in Vegas? I’d like to catch up.”

Scott grinned back at her. “Sounds like fun.”

The thrusters on the hover sedan sputtered to life as Stiles stepped inside with Scott in toe, but he gave pause after hearing Isaac yell to stop from a distance. He jerked his head around to see the blonde sprinting over to them from the opposite side of the docking pad. The cyborg skid to a stop. He appeared upset and very concerned.

“What’s wrong?” Scott asked him and stepped back off the craft.

Isaac moved right to Scott and clutched his arm. “You’re leaving me?” His voice was meek and eyes filled with desperation.

Scott’s heart gave a painful tug. He had to force himself not to throw his arms around him. “Everything’s okay, Isaac. This is where you’ll stay now,” he said and rubbed the blonde’s shoulder soothingly.

“But I stay with you,” he stated in a confused tone.

“I will return every day to check up on you, but you have to complete your training for your mission. This is where you will remain from now on.”

Isaac hung his head. He felt as if he were being abandoned. “Okay…” he muttered. “You’ll be back tomorrow?”

“Yes, of course. Every day. Now do whatever they say, Isaac. You’ve shown them how capable you are. Don’t give them any reason to fear you, okay? Obey their commands. Ally will take care of you.”

Allison stepped up to Isaac and pulled him away from Scott. “Come on, Isaac. Let me show you to your living space. We’ve prepared something special for you.”

Isaac didn’t even acknowledge her. He just stared after Scott as she stepped backward with him. He didn’t feel right about it. His stomach hurt and chest ached for reasons unexplainable. The cyborg didn’t turn away until Scott moved inside the sedan and closed the door.

“That was painful,” Stiles jabbed sympathetically at his colleague. “Like leaving a puppy at the neighbors while you go on vacation.”

Scott frowned. “Except he’s not a puppy and we’re leaving him here permanently…”

“I told you not to get so attached,” the engineer sighed as the vehicle lifted into the air. “As much as you tried to convince him that he’s human, you forgot to convince yourself that he’s not. He’s a weapon; a piece of technology and property of the M.D.”

Scott couldn’t bring himself to look out the window after Isaac. He felt guilty, and Stiles’ words were all too true. The two weeks spent hammering into Isaac’s head that he was a human being made him forget that he wasn’t human at all. He hoped it wouldn’t be like this every day. If Isaac looked at him like that each time they left the base, it’d break Scott’s heart.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to begin by apologizing for the long delay between updates and feel you deserve an explanation. After writing the last chapter, I honestly was in need of a break. Went with some friends on vacation for a couple weeks and left my laptop at home. After returning, I have since begun looking for a job because I'm desperately in need of employment. That's not only consuming a lot of my time, but I've also had to clean out to pass a drug test for possible job opportunities. That being said, I find it very difficult to write when I'm not medicated. Cannabis helps stimulate my creativity. I'm not ashamed to admit that, but because I've had to go without for a while, I'm scatter-brained and barely able to focus on the joys of writing.
> 
> For said reasons, I'm not particularly fond of the outcome of this chapter. Even though I've had ample time to work on it, it still feels rushed. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't seem to fix the issues I had with it. I really hope everyone enjoyed the read. I hate feeling unimpressed by my own work. Normally I'm not one to beg for comments, but in this case it'd be helpful to get a little criticism and feedback; let me know if it's okay. Hopefully I'll find a job soon and can start toking again so we won't continue to run into this problem. I appreciate all of your support. Thanks a bunch. - k


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